A.   P.   Lange 


INDIANA  UNIVERSITY,  1820-1920 
CENTENNIAL  MEMORIAL  VOLUME 


Copyright  1921 

by 
INDIANA  UNIVERSITY 

l*j    Ct.F. 

-h> 


(2) 


Contents 

FOREWORD WILLIAM  LOWE  BRYAN,  '84       5 

PART  I 
HISTORY  OF  INDIANA  UNIVERSITY DAVID  DEMAREE  BANTA,  '55      9 

PART  II 

THE  AMERICAN  UNIVERSITY:  TODAY  AND  TOMORROW 

JACOB  GOULD  SCHURMAN  117 

RESEARCHES  ON  SPIROCHAETA  PALLIDA 

ALDRED  SCOTT  WARTHIN,  '88  141 

THE  UNIVERSITY  MEDICAL  SCHOOL  AND  THE  STATE 

ALDRED  SCOTT  WARTHIN,  '88  157 

GRADUATE  MEDICAL  EDUCATION:    EXPERIENCE  WITH  THE 

MINNESOTA  PLAN ELIAS  POTTER  LYON  163 

THE  THOMAS  JEFFERSON  THEORY  OF  EDUCATION 

SAMUEL  MOFFETT  RALSTON  179 

THE  STATE  UNIVERSITY  AND  BUSINESS EVANS  WOOLLEN  193 

THE  STATE  UNIVERSITY  AT  THE  OPENING  OF  THE  TWEN- 
TIETH CENTURY EDWARD  A.  BIRGE  203 

THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  THE  STATE  UNIVERSITY PAUL  SHOREY  223 

THE  OBLIGATION  OF  THE  STATE  TOWARD  SCIENTIFIC  RE- 
SEARCH  JAMES  ROWLAND  ANGELL  243 

THE  FUTURE  OF  LEGAL  EDUCATION ROSCOE  POUND  257 

A  PRESENT  NEED  IN  AMERICAN  PROFESSIONAL  EDUCATION. 

ROBERT  ANDREWS  MILLIKAN  273 

SPIRITUAL  FRONTIERSMEN FRANCIS  JOHN  McCoNNELL  281 

THE  SPIRITUAL  IDEA  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY 

SIR  ROBERT  ALEXANDER  FALCONER  293 

THE  CENTENNIAL  COMMENCEMENT. ..  305 


(3) 


,  v  :^:»  ?%/ 


Indiana  University 


!/••/*• 


X 


Foreword 


THE  AMERICAN  PAGEANT,  as  I  see  it,  has  two  movements.  First 
is  a  descent.  Whenever  civilized  men  have  gone  far  into  the  wil- 
derness to  live,  they  have  at  first  lost  some  part  of  their  civiliza- 
tion. 

For  an  immediate  illustration,  take  Indiana  in  the  middle  of 
the  last  century.  Our  people  had  the  civilized  mother  tongue. 
But  in  1840  fourteen  per  cent  of  the  adults  (38,600)  could  not 
read  or  write,  and  in  1850  twenty-two  per  cent  of  them  (75,017) 
could  not  read  or  write.  They  had  schools,  academies,  colleges, 
men  and  women  of  learning  and  cultivation.  But  in  1848  forty- 
four  per  cent  of  our  people  voted  against  free  public  schools,  and 
in  this  county,  the  seat  of  this  University,  seventy-nine  and  four- 
tenths  per  cent  of  the  people  voted  against  free  public  schools. 
They  had  the  law,  the  ancient  law  developed  in  southern  and 
western  Europe  since  before  the  Christian  era,  and  some  men 
learned  in  the  law.  But  in  1852  our  people  wrote  it  into  their 
constitution  that  a  man  might  be  a  counsellor  at  the  bar  however 
ignorant,  and  they  prescribed  that  in  criminal  cases  a  jury  how- 
ever ignorant  should  be  the  sole  judges  of  the  law.  They  were  not 
without  the  elements  of  art.  They  had  music.  They  had  the 
pioneer  melodies  that  Riley  loved  to  hear  the  Old  Band  play. 
We  are  not  ashamed  of  the  melody  nor  of  the  Band.  But  the 
great  music  was  not  there.  The  empire  of  Beethoven  was  as  far 
from  our  people  generally  as  the  empire  of  Genghis  Khan. 

The  making  of  a  home  in  America  by  Europeans  since  1492  is 
the  greatest  event  of  modern  history.  But  everywhere  at  first  it 
involved  descent. 

I  have  an  opinion  as  to  WHY  civilization  goes  down  and  down 
in  the  backwoods.  It  is,  I  think,  because  the  circle  of  great  voca- 
tions, the  learned  professions,  the  sciences,  the  arts,  the  more 
delicate  handicrafts  cannot  be  kept  up  there  on  the  highest  level. 
There  is  not  a  living  for  those  who  follow  them.  The  occasional 
genius  may  be  there.  But  the  circle  of  masters  surrounded  by  a 
swarm  of  journeymen  and  apprentices  is  never  there.  The  finer 
arts  are  lost.  The  children  of  the  woods  forget  what  their  fath- 

(5) 


6  Indiana  University 

ers  knew.  And  as  they  forget  and  forget  they  sink  toward  the 
barbaric  life. 

Nevertheless  in  the  American  backwoods  there  were  always 
conditions  which  made  possible  re-ascent.  There  was  always  the 
blood  of  the  great  races.  There  was  always  the  potential  capac- 
ity to  do  any  sort  of  work  which  is  possible  for  a  man.  There 
was  always  the  potential  hunger  to  resume  the  great  occupa- 
tions at  their  best.  There  was  sometimes,  as  I  have  said,  the 
genius  who  came  up  out  of  the  woods  to  win  world  recognition 
and  show  his  neighbors  a  glimpse  of  the  upward  way. 

And  so,  as  soon  as  it  was  possible,  as  soon  as  they  had  earned 
a  little  leisure,  the  eager  children  of  the  woods  began  to  climb 
the  upward  ways.  They  began  to  hear  from  far  the  voices  of  the 
great  masters  in  every  vocation.  They  began  to  glimpse  from  far 
the  vision  of  science,  the  vision  of  art,  perhaps  the  vision  of  in- 
dustry not  divorced  from  art  or  from  religion.  This  is  the  thrill- 
ing second  scene  of  our  American  Pageant,  of  our  Indiana  Page- 
ant,— this  eager  throng  who  will  relearn  all  that  the  ancient  East 
can  teach  and  will  then  cheerfully  dare  in  every  vocation  new 
ventures  of  which  the  East  dared  not  to  dream. 

WILLIAM  LOWE  BKYAN. 


PART  I 


HISTORY  OF  INDIANA  UNIVERSITY 


DAVID  DEMAREE  BANTA  was  born  in  Johnson  county,  Indiana,  May  23,  1833 
He  attended  Franklin  College  for  a  time,  but  later  entered  Indiana  University 
from  which  he  was  graduated  B.S.  in  1855  and  LL.B.  in  1857.  He  was  judge  of 
the  sixteenth  judicial  circuit,  1870  to  1876,  and  a  trustee  of  Indiana  University 
from  1877  to  1889,  serving  as  president  of  the  board  from  1882  until  his  resigna- 
tion in  1889.  In  the  latter  year,  upon  the  revival  of  the  School  of  Law,  he  be- 
came its  first  dean,  holding  this  position  until  his  death  in  Bloomington  on  April 
9,  18.96.  Judge  Banta  was  the  author  of  A  Historical  Sketch  of  Johnson  County  t 
Indiana,  and  of  a  work  entitled  Making  a  Neighborhood,  dealing  with  the  old 
Shiloh  Church  neighborhood  in  western  Johnson  county.  He  also  wrote  a 
number  of  papers  and  sketches  relating  to  local  history  and  out-of-door  subjects. 


HISTORY  OF  INDIANA  UNIVERSITY 

By  the  Late  DAVID  DEMAREE  BANTA,  '55 

[The  following  six  addresses  were  delivered  by  Judge  Banta  on  successive  Foundation  Day 
from  1889  to  1894,  during  the  time  of  his  service  as  dean  of  the  School  of  Law.  These  manuscripts 
are  in  the  possession  of  the  University,  and  the  addresses  were  published  one  after  the  other  in 
successive  issues  of  the  Indiana  University  Alumni  Quarterly,  beginning  with  the  first  issue 
of  the  magazine,  January,  1914.] 

I.     THE  SEMINARY  PERIOD  (1820-28) 

IN  THE  ACT  of  Congress  of  April  18,  1816,  providing  for  the  ad- 
mission of  Indiana  into  the  Union,  is  found  the  germ  of  the  Indiana 
University.  Certain  propositions  were  tendered  by  that  act  to  the 
people  of  the  proposed  new  state  for  " their  free  acceptance  or  rejec- 
tion", two  of  which  related  to  education;  and  one  was  the  proposi- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  federal  government  to  donate  to  the  new 
state  a  township  of  land  "for  the  use  of  a  seminary  of  learning". 

The  constitutional  convention  met  at  Corydon  on  June  18 
following,  and  in  nineteen  days  framed  an  organic  law  under  which 
Indiana  was  admitted  and  her  people  prospered  for  thirty-five 
years.  To  the  lasting  honor  of  the  members  of  that  convention  be 
it  spoken,  they  accepted  the  proposition  of  Congress  relating  to 
learning  in  a  spirit  as  broad  and  liberal  as  that  in  which  it  had  been 
tendered.  I  need  not  stop  to  read  to  you  the  splendid  tribute  they 
paid  to  liberal  learning,  nor  the  pledge  they  made  to  faithfully 
execute  the  trusts  imposed  by  the  liberality  of  Congress.  It  is 
enough  for  me  to  present  in  their  own  words  a  summing  up  of  the 
duties  the  people  of  the  new  state  assumed  in  behalf  of  their  schools. 
In  the  second  section  of  the  ninth  article  it  is  declared  that  "It 
shall  be  the  duty  of  the  General  Assembly,  as  soon  as  circumstances 
will  permit,  to  provide  by  law  for  a  general  system  of  education 
ascending  in  a  regular  gradation  from  township  schools  to  a  State 
University,  wherein  tuition  shall  be  gratis  and  equally  open  to  all." 

Whatever  may  be  said  as  to  the  subsequent  performance,  the 
pledge  given  by  the  new  state  was  as  liberal  as  the  most  zealous 
friend  of  learning  in  all  the  land  could  have  wished.  The  state  stood 
committed  by  her  organic  law  to  a  free  school  system  that  should 
begin  in  the  district  school  and  end  in  the  University. 

On  July  10,  eleven  days  after  the  convention  had  adjourned, 

(ID 


1£  Indiana  University 

President  Madison  designated  the  Seminary  township.  This  town- 
ship, which  in  the  subsequent  organization  of  Monroe  county  be- 
came a  part  thereof,  had  been  surveyed  under  the  laws  of  the  United 
States  as  early  as  1812,  and  the  notes  of  the  surveyor  were  doubtless 
before  the  President  when  the  selection  was  made,  for  it  was  appar- 
ent that  a  better  selection  could  not  have  been  made  within  the  then 
surveyed  limits  as  near  to  the  geographical  center  of  the  state.  The 
township  chosen  was  well  timbered  and  well  watered,  and  its  many 
productive  farms  of  today  attest  the  native  fertility  of  the  soil. 

To  the  framers  of  the  constitution  it  was  evident  that  the  sale 
of  any  of  the  school  lands  at  that  time  would  be  imprudent,  so  they 
provided  in  the  organic  law  that  none  should  be  sold  before  1820. 
The  settled  parts  of  Indiana  at  the  time  of  the  admission  were 
confined  to  a  narrow  fringe  of  territory  extending  down  the  Ohio 
state  line  from  Wayne  county  to  the  Ohio  river,  and  thence  down 
that  river  to  the  Wabash,  and  up  that  to  Vincennes.  The  larger 
parts  of  what  are  known  as  eastern,  southern,  and  western  Indiana, 
and  all  of  central  and  northern  Indiana,  were  a  wilderness.  Less 
than  a  fourth  part  of  the  lands  within  the  state  had  been  surveyed, 
and  to  nearly  all  the  unsurveyed  parts  the  Indians  claimed  title. 
The  southern  Indian  boundary  line  crossed  the  Wabash  a  few  miles 
south  of  the  present  site  of  Newport  in  Vermilion  county;  and 
thence  it  ran  southeasterly,  crossing  the  west  fork  of  White  river 
at  Gosport,  and  thru  the  territory  now  known  as  Monroe  county, 
leaving  fully  a  fourth  of  it  on  the  Indian  side,  and  struck  the  east 
fork  of  White  river  about  midway  between  Seymour  and  Browns- 
town,  whence  it  ran  in  a  general  northeast  course  till  it  cut  the  Ohio 
line  east  of  the  present  site  of  Portland  in  Jay  county.  The  white 
population  of  the  state  verged  upon  64,000,  and  delegates  from 
thirteen  border  counties  sat  in  the  constitutional  convention. 

By  a  treaty  made  with  the  Delaware  and  some  other  Indians,  in 
the  fall  of  1818,  the  southern  Indian  boundary  was  set  back  well  up 
towards  the  sources  of  the  Wabash  river ;  and  two  years  thereafter 
the  door  to  all  of  central  Indiana,  then  and  long  after  known  as  the 
New  Purchase,  was  thrown  open  to  an  anxious  throng  of  hardy 
pioneer  home-hunters. 

In  spite  of  the  manifold  hindrances  in  the  way  of  a  speedy  coloni- 
zation of  the  New  Purchase,  the  settlers  came  in.  It  is  a  difficult 
matter  for  the  people  of  today  to  gain  an  adequate  idea  of  all  they 
had  to  encounter;  and  yet  without  something  of  this,  no  one  can 
rate  at  its  true  value  the  founding  and  maintenance  of  our  beloved 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  13 

school  here  in  the  woods.  Before  the  Indians  had  ceased  to  occupy, 
the  advance  guard  began  to  invade  the  New  Purchase;  and  by  the 
fall  of  1820  the  sound  of  the  pioneer's  ax  was  heard  in  every  county 
watered  by  White  river  and  its  tributaries,  from  the  "Forks"  to  its 
sources.  The  immigrants  came  by  way  of  the  Indian  trails  or  cut 
"traces"  thru  the  woods.  Some  came  in  wagons  and  some  in 
sleds.  Many  packed  in  on  horseback,  and  a  few  came  on  foot.  In 
1820  the  census  showed  a  population  of  more  than  147,000,  as 
against  64,000  of  five  years  before;  and  by  1825  it  had  mounted  up 
to  a  quarter  of  a  million. 

These  were  all  poor  men — poor  even  for  their  own  day.  Most 
were  able  to  buy  forty,  eighty,  or  a  hundred  acres  of  land  at  "Con- 
gress price",  but  there  were  comparatively  few  that  could  do  more. 

What  had  they  undertaken?  To  subdue  the  wilderness;  to 
wrest  from  reluctant  Nature  a  livelihood  for  themselves  and  their 
families ;  to  construct  highways ;  to  build  towns ;  to  establish  churches 
and  schools;  and,  in  a  word,  to  make  a  state. 

What  had  they  to  encounter?  Who  can  tell!  The  story  of  their 
hardships  never  has  been  and  never  can  be  fully  told.  We  have  not 
time  to  dwell  upon  it  here.  Let  us  be  content  with  a  bare  recital  of 
some  of  the  topics  that  would  enter  into  the  story.  There  was  the 
forest — dense,  damp,  gloomy,  unexcelled  in  its  magnitude  on  this 
great  forest  continent  of  ours;  swamps  interminable  where  now  are 
fruitful  fields;  wild  beasts  waiting  to  devour  the  products  of  labor; 
the  late  and  early  frosts;  the  annual  floods;  the  want  of  markets;  a 
financial  revulsion  more  disastrous  in  its  consequences  than  has  ever 
cursed  the  people  of  Indiana  since ;  and  the  almost  universal  preval- 
ence of  the  autumnal  and  other  sicknesses  peculiar  to  a  new  country. 
From  1820  to  1825  the  mortality  in  the  state  was  appalling.  In  the 
fall  of  1820  the  sickness  in  the  Blue  river  settlements  was  so  great 
that  there  were  not  enough  well  persons  left  to  nurse  the  sick  ones. 
In  1822  an  epidemic  of  fever  broke  out  in  the  new  town  of  Indian- 
apolis and  carried  off  seventy-two  persons,  one-eighth  of  the  popula- 
tion. In  1820  over  one  hundred  out  of  the  population  of  six  hundred 
died  in  Vevay.  Palestine,  then  the  seat  of  justice  in  Lawrence 
county,  was  nearly  depopulated ;  and  in  "most  neighborhoods",  says 
an  early  historian,  "there  were  but  few  persons  who  escaped  without 
one  or  more  severe  attacks  of  fever".  "Death  numbered  his  vic- 
tims by  hundreds.  The  land  was  filled  with  mourning  and  the 
graveyards  filled  with  the  pioneer  dead." 

Notwithstanding  the  United  States  surveyors  had  established 
the  "lines  and  corners"  thruout  the  greater  part  of  Monroe  county 


14  Indiana  University 

as  early  as  1812,  the  first  pioneer's  cabin  seems  not  to  have  been 
built  within  the  present  county  boundaries  till  some  time  in  1815 — a 
backwardness  to  take  advantage  of  the  public  surveys  that  can  be 
accounted  for  by  the  nearness  of  the  Indian  country.  In  that  year 
David  McHolland,  a  famous  hunter  and  a  "jovial  fiddler",  settled 
on  Clear  creek  close  up  to  the  south  boundary  of  the  Seminary  dona- 
tion. Others  followed,  a  few  the  same  year,  more  the  next,  and  so 
on.  In  1816,  according  to  the  local  historian,  the  first  white  men's 
cabins  were  built  on  the  after-site  of  Bloomington.  Early  in  1818 
Monroe  county  was  organized,  and  in  April  of  the  same  year  Bloom- 
ington was  staked  out  adjoining  the  Seminary  township  on  the 
north. 

The  new  town  seems  to  have  outstripped  all  of  its  inland  com- 
petitors, a  circumstance  due  mainly  to  the  nearness  of  the  Seminary 
towrtship.  At  the  close  of  the  year  it  contained  140  inhabitants, 
living  in  thirty  hastily  constructed  cabins;  and  the  number  was 
doubled  the  year  following.  By  1820  the  public  square  was  cleared 
of  the  last  of  its  native  forest  trees,  the  log  courthouse  was  outgrown, 
and  Colonel  John  Ketcham  was  at  work  on  a  brick  structure  which, 
when  completed  four  years  later,1  was  esteemed  so  highly  for  its 
great  beauty  of  design  and  excellence  of  finish  that  the  county 
commissioners  ordered  that  it  should  not  be  opened  to  the  gaze  of 
profane  eyes  save  for  certain  specified  purposes,  one  of  which  was 
"when  any  person  shall  want  admittance  for  the  purpose  of  acquir- 
ing architectural  knowledge".  Thus  early  was  Bloomington 
vaunting  herself  on  account  of  her  educational  facilities. 

The  constitution,  as  we  have  seen,  inhibited  the  sale  of  any  lands 
granted  for  school  purposes  before  1820.  That  time  was  now  at 
hand,  and  whatever  the  sentiment  elsewhere  might  be,  Bloomington 
was  ready  for  the  new  State  Seminary.  The  legislature  was  to 
meet  in  December  and  would  last  about  six  weeks.  Monroe  county 
was  attached  to  other  counties  for  representative  and  senatorial 
purposes,  and  it  so  happened  that  her  people  were  not  represented 
in  either  house  by  a  citizen  from  their  midst.  In  the  lower  house, 
John  DePauw  answered  for  them,  and  in  the  upper,  Alexander  Little, 
both  from  the  same  county,  Washington.  The  men  of  Bloomington 
were  not  satisfied  with  this  posture  of  affairs,  and  it  is  little  wonder. 
There  is  no  record — there  is  not  even  a  tradition — remaining  of  any 

»The  courthouse  was  not  entirely  completed,  inside  and  outside,  until  1826.  It  was  painted 
bright  red,  penciled  with  white,  and  was  surmounted  with  a  cupola  containing  a  public  clock. 
In  1856-58  it  was  remodeled  by  the  addition  of  two  brick  wings.  It  stood  in  this  form  until  its 
demolition  in  1906,  to  make  room  for  the  present  building  of  white  limestone. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  15 

meeting  held  by  them  to  take  counsel  concerning  the  matter;  but  I 
have  no  doubt  the  meeting  was  held.  At  any  rate  the  people  deter- 
mined to  have  an  agent  from  Bloomington  on  the  ground — a  member 
of  the  Third  House,  if  you  will. 

Whom  should  they  send?  Dr.  David  H.  Maxwell.  He  had 
some  legislative  experience,  having  been  a  member  of  the  constitu- 
tional convention  from  Jefferson  county.  He  had  a  general 
acquaintance  with  public  affairs  and  with  the  public  men  of  the 
state,  and  above  all  he  was  plausible,  concilatory,  level-headed,  and 
a  good  judge  of  human  nature.  This  was  the  first  service  he  was 
called  upon  to  render  an  institution  to  the  furthering  of  whose 
interests  he  was  ever  after  devoted.  For  nearly  forty  years,  of  all 
men  outside  the  circle  of  those  engaged  as  teachers,  he  gave  the 
most  of  time  in  its  service,  and  to  better  purpose.  So  unremitting 
was  he  in  his  labors  in  its  behalf,  and  to  such  good  purpose  were 
they  directed,  that  it  can  better  be  said  of  him  than  of  any  other, 
"He  was  the  father  of  Indiana  University." 

The  General  Assembly  was  to  meet  on  the  first  Monday  in 
December,  and  mounting  his  horse  the  Bloomington  agent  rode 
over  the  hills  the  long  and  weary  road  to  Corydon.  No  record,  no 
tradition  even  remains  to  tell  the  story  of  what  he  did  to  secure 
legislative  action  in  behalf  of  a  state  school.  But  was  not  the  Bloom- 
ington member  charmed  as  he  listened  to  the  reading  of  Governor 
Jennings'  message?  Said  the  governor: 

The  convention  has  made  it  the  duty  of  the  General  Assembly,  as  soon  as 
circumstances  will  permit,  to  provide  by  law  for  a  general  system  of  education. 
The  lands  received  for  the  use  of  the  seminary  of  learning  are  vested  in  the  legis- 
lature to  be  appropriated  solely  for  that  purpose,  and  it  is  submitted  to  your 
consideration  whether  the  location  of  such  institution  upon  or  near  such  lands 
would  not  greatly  enhance  their  value  and  enlarge  the  funds  for  a  purpose  so 
important.  It  is  believed  that  the  Seminary  township  situated  in  Monroe  county 
would  afford  a  site  combining  the  advantages  of  fertility  of  soil  with  a  healthy 
climate,  as  well  as  a  position  sufficiently  central  to  the  various  sections  of  the 
state.  To  authorize  the  sale  of  a  portion  of  these  lands  under  judicious  regulations 
would  increase  the  value  of  the  residue,  and  the  sooner  enable  us  to  lay  the 
foundations  of  an  institution  so  desirable. 

This  part  of  the  message  was,  on  December  11,  referred  by  the 
House  to  a  committee  of  seven,  of  which  Mr.  Ross  of  Clark  was 
chairman,  with  leave  to  report  by  bill  or  otherwise.  On  December 
31,  twenty  days  after  the  reference,  Mr.  Ross  on  behalf  of  his  com- 
mittee reported  a  bill  to  establish  a  seminary,  which  was  read  a 
first  and  a  second  time  and  then  referred  to  a  committee  of  the 
whole  House  and  made  a  special  order  for  the  following  day.  But 


16  Indiana  University 

the  following  day  came  and  passed  and  nothing  was  done  with  the 
bill.  It  was  not  till  January  11  that  we  again  hear  of  it.  There 
was  just  then  a  pressure  of  the  multifarious  business  that  found  its 
way  into  the  legislative  halls  of  the  state  under  the  constitution 
of  1816.  There  was  an  administrator  clamoring  for  some  sort  of 
relief  in  the  matter  of  his  trust.  The  sheriff  of  Wayne  county  had 
a  grievance  concerning  the  public  accounts  which  only  a  legislative 
act  could  set  right.  Sally  Griffit  wanted  a  divorce  from  her  hus- 
band and  there  was  no  other  tribunal  to  which  she  could  go.  Some- 
one prayed  to  be  encouraged  in  the  manufacture  of  salt,  and  the 
legislature  was  in  duty  bound  to  encourage  him.  The  clerk  of  the 
Washington  circuit  court  having  been  charged  with  a  misfeasance 
in  office,  the  House  of  Representatives  preferred  charges  against 
him,  and  the  Senate  had  to  sit  as  a  court  to  try  the  cause.  A  high- 
way being  wanted  to  connect  a  new  town  in  the  New  Purchase 
with  an  old  one  outside,  only  the  lawmaking  power  of  the  state 
could  authorize  it  to  be  cut  out.  A  commission  to  locate  the  new 
capital  of  the  state  had  to  be  appointed,  and  the  toll  to  be  taken 
by  millers  for  grinding  the  farmers'  corn  must  be  regulated  by  law. 
So  you  can  see  a  good  excuse  can  be  made  by  the  House  for  the 
delay  in  acting  upon  the  bill.  On  January  11,  however,  the  bill 
was  taken  up  and  passed  with  "sundry  amendments". 

Four  days  after  we  find  it  in  the  Senate  in  committee  of  the 
whole,  when  "some  amendments  were  made  thereto",  one  of  which 
was  to  vest  in  the  trustees  of  the  Seminary  the  Seminary  lands  in 
Gibson  county,2  and  the  other  was  to  strike  from  the  bill  the  fol- 
lowing: "Provided  that  two  thousand  acres  of  land  in  Monroe 
county,  above  vested  in  the  trustees,  be  forever  reserved  by  said 
trustees  as  a  glebe  for  the  said  Seminary  and  the  use  of  the  profes- 
sors thereof." 

This  was  on  Saturday,  but  the  final  vote  was  not  reached  till 
Monday;  and  when  it  did  come,  how  nearly  the  Seminary  bill 
failed  becoming  a  law  will  be  known  when  it  is  stated  that  on  the 
call  of  the  yeas  and  the  nays,  five  of  the  ten  senators  voted  in  the 
affirmative  and  five  in  the  negative.  The  president  of  the  Senate, 
Lieu  tenant-Governor  Ratliffe  Boon,  gave  the  casting  vote  in  its 
favor,  and  so  the  bill  as  amended  was  passed. 

The  next  day  it  was  back  in  the  House,  and  the  amendment 
striking  out  the  proviso  concerning  the  "glebe"  was  concurred  in, 
while  the  one  vesting  title  to  the  Gibson  county  lands  in  the  trustees 

'Reserved  by  act  of  Congress  approved  March  26, 1804;  located  by  Albert  Gallatin  as  Secretary 
of  the  Treasury,  October  10, 1806. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  17 

was  rejected.  Forthwith  it  was  returned  to  the  Senate.  The 
celerity  with  which  it  was  sent  from  chamber  to  chamber  reminds  us 
that  there  was  a  man  on  the  ground  especially  interested  in  its  final 
success.  Immediately  on  its  return  to  the  Senate,  Mr.  Drew  of 
Franklin  moved  that  the  Senate  adhere  to  their  amendments; 
which,  says  the  record,  "was  decided  in  the  negative  and  the  bill  was 
then  passed".  The  next  day,  January  20,  1820,  the  day  we  cele- 
brate, it  was  signed  by  the  governor  and  became  a  law  of  the  land. 

The  act  which  so  narrowly  escaped  defeat  provided  for  the  organ- 
ization of  a  State  Seminary  at  Bloomington.  The  first  section 
named  for  its  trustees  Charles  Dewey,  Jonathan  Lindley,  David  H. 
Maxwell,  John  M.  Jenkins,  Jonathan  Nichols,  and  William  Lowe — 
"they  and  their  successors  in  office  to  have  perpetual  succession". 
They  were  authorized  to  meet  in  Bloomington  on  the  first  Monday 
of  the  following  June,  and  select  "an  eligible  and  convenient  site 
for  a  seminary".  It  was  made  their  duty  to  appoint  an  agent  to 
lay  off  and  sell  under  their  sanction  any  parcels  of  land  contiguous 
to  Bloomington,  not  exceeding  640  acres.  As  soon  as  the  trustees 
should  deem  it  expedient,  they  were  to  "proceed  to  the  erection  of 
a  suitable  building  for  a  State  Seminary,  and  also  a  suitable  and 
commodious  house  for  a  professor".  They  were  to  report  to  the 
next  General  Assembly  their  proceedings,  together  with  "a  plan 
of  buildings  by  them  erected". 

This  law  is  more  remarkable  for  what  it  does  not  contain  than 
for  what  it  does.  Its  projectors  evidently  had  little  conception  of 
the  real  nature  of  the  work  in  hand.  It  left  the  future  committed 
almost  entirely  to  the  wisdom  of  the  trustees.  The  duties  it  imposed 
upon  them  looking  to  the  real  purposes  of  a  seminary  were  to  select 
a  site,  sell  a  section  of  land,  and  erect  suitable  buildings.  Not  a 
word  in  it  about  a  school. 

And  yet,  I  believe  it  was  the  very  best  law  the  legislature  could 
have  framed  at  that  time. 

On  the  first  Monday  in  June,  1820,  which  was  the  fifth  day  of 
the  month,  four  of  the  six  trustees  met  at  Bloomington,  in  accord- 
ance with  the  requirements  of  the  law,  to  select  a  site  for  the  State 
Seminary.  On  that  day  the  commissioners  to  locate  a  site  for  the 
state  capital  were  traversing  the  wilderness  between  Conner's 
Prairie  and  the  Bluffs  on  White  river  in  the  search  of  a  suitable 
place.  On  the  ninth  the  future  site  of  Indianapolis  was  chosen. 
The  Seminary  commissioners  were  less  fortunate.  Two  of  the 
members,  Charles  Dewey  and  Jonathan  Lindley,  were  absent;  and 
as  both  were  men  of  some  consequence,  Dewey  especially,  it  was 


18  Indiana  University 

thought  best  to  adjourn  over  to  the  "next  month".     "Accordingly 

on  the -  day  of  July"  the  board  met,  every  member  present 

save  Jonathan  Lindley,  and  proceeded  at  once  to  select  a  section 
of  land  on  the  reserved  Seminary  township  for  sale,  and  to  locate  a 
site  for  a  seminary.  In  their  report  made  to  the  next  legislature 
they  say:  "The  site  chosen  is  ....  about  one-quarter  of  a 
mile  due  south  from  Bloomington,  on  a  beautiful  eminence  and  con- 
venient to  an  excellent  spring  of  water,  the  only  one  on  the  section 
selected  that  could  with  convenience  answer  the  purposes  of  a 
seminary." 

Not  to  exceed  three  hundred  souls  lived  in  Bloomington  at  the 
time.  Into  the  open  doors  of  their  cabins,  clustering  around  the 
square,  the  early  morning  and  late  evening  shadows  fell  from  the 
native  beeches  and  maples  and  oaks  and  poplars,  still  growing  close 
around.  One  square  south  of  the  public  square  was  the  boundary 
in  that  direction  of  the  town.  Beyond  that  lay  the  thirty-six  square 
miles  of  Seminary  land,  in  which  not  a  tree  had  lawfully  been  cut 
down.  Hunters  from  the  town  and  the  scattered  settlements 
around  killed  deer  along  its  water  courses,  and  bears  and  wolves 
prowled  amidst  its  thickets.  In  any  other  direction  the  outlook 
was  but  little  better.  Here  and  there  a  little  field  had  been  chopped 
out  around  a  settler's  cabin,  it  was  true,  but  in  the  main  the  wilder- 
ness still  held  sway.  It  was  in  July,  and  every  green  thing  was 
thick  with  leaves.  Those  contrasting  views  of  upland  and  lowland 
which  please  the  eye  of  the  Bloomington  visitor  today  were  envel- 
oped in  shaggy  thickets  of  green,  and  to  this  cause  more  than  to 
any  other,  doubtless,  is  due  the  fact  that  the  trustees,  overlooking 
the  sightly  highlands  to  the  east  and  the  west,  found  a  "beautiful 
eminence"  in  the  narrow  plateau  next  the  Clear  creek  bottom.  True, 
the  "excellent  spring  of  water"  must  not  be  forgotten  in  this  calcu- 
lation, tho  its  fountain  has  long  since  dried  up.  It  was  the  only 
spring  on  the  section,  they  naively  said,  "that  could  with  conven- 
ience answer  the  purpose  of  the  Seminary", — as  if  the  art  of  digging 
wells  was  not  yet  known! 

A  plan  of  a  building  was  agreed  upon  at  this  meeting  of  the 
board  and  reported  to  the  legislature,  and  altho  it  has  long  since 
been  lost,  the  board  tells  us  in  their  report  that  it  was  "on  the  plan 
of  Princeton  College  in  New  Jersey" — the  historic  Nassau  Hall. 

I  dare  not  in  this  presence  enter  upon  any  discussion  of  the  finan- 
cial history  of  the  Indiana  Seminary.  My  time  is  too  short  for 
that.  Nor  can  I  make  more  than  the  briefest  reference  to  the 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  19 

buildings  that  were  ultimately  constructed  for  the  accommodation 
of  students  and  a  professor. 

Over  twenty  months  passed  away  after  the  location  was  made 
before  the  work  of  building  was  actually  begun.  Two  houses  were 
agreed  upon,  one  for  the  "reception  of  students"  and  the  other  for 
a  professor's  dwelling.  This  last,  according  to  the  old  record,  was 
to  "be  of  the  size  of  W.  D.  McCullough's  house  which  he  had  rented 
to  Thomas  Allen  of  Kentucky,  except  that  it  was  to  be  four  feet 
longer",  a  statement  by  no  means  calculated  to  improve  the  temper 
of  the  searcher  after  historical  facts.  In  a  report  made  to  the  legis- 
lature at  a  subsequent  time,  by  Dr.  David  H.  Maxwell,  he  tells 
us  that  it  was  thirty-one  feet  long  and  eighteen  feet  in  width,  and 
cost  $891. 

The  Seminary  edifice  proper,  we  learn  from  the  same  report,  was 
sixty  feet  long  and  thirty-one  feet  wide.  It  was  two  stories  high, 
and  when  new  was  considered  quite  a  pretentious  building.  It 
faced  to  the  east,  had  a  chapel  and  two  recitation  rooms  on  the  first 
floor,  and  I  know  not  how  many  rooms  on  the  second.  It  cost 
$2,400. 

While  the  General  Assembly  was  legislating  the  Seminary  into 
existence,  a  young  man,  destined  to  be  its  first  professor  and  to 
stay  with  it  thru  its  Seminary  life,  and  to  be  with  it  when  it  passed 
up  into  Indiana  College,  and  finally  to  leave  that  college  a  disap- 
pointed and  embittered  man  and  write  a  book  maligning  his  enemies 
and  making  sport  of  his  friends,3  was  taking  his  last  year's  course 
of  lectures  at  Union  College,  under  the  celebrated  Dr.  Nott.  This 
young  man  was  Baynard  R.  Hall.  After  receiving  his  first  degree 
at  the  commencement  of  1820  at  Union,  he  went  to  Princeton  where 
he  studied  theology,  after  which  he  was  ordained  a  minister  of  the 
Presbyterian  church.  Returning  to  Philadelphia,  his  natal  city, 
at  the  close  of  his  theological  studies,  he  married  and  soon  after 
set  out  with  his  bride  for  the  New  Purchase. 

This  must  have  been  some  time  in  1823.  He  had  relatives  in 
the  New  Purchase  and  out  of  it,  one  of  the  latter  being  the  Rev. 
Isaac  Reed,  a  brother-in-law,  who  lived  in  Bloomington.  Another 
brother-in-law,  John  Young,  besides  other  relatives,  lived  in  the 
New  Purchase  a  short  distance  above  Gosport. 

*The  New  Purchase,  or  Early  Years  in  the  Far  West.  By  Robert  Carlton,  Esq.  (Baynard  R. 
Hall).  The  first  edition,  in  two  volumes,  was  published  by  Appletons,  Philadelphia,  1843;  the 
second  edition,  in  one  volume,  New  Albany,  Ind.,  1855,  by  Mr.  John  R.  Nunemacher;  the  third 
edition  was  edited  by  Professor  James  A.  Woodburn,  '76,  of  Indiana  University,  and  published  by 
the  Princeton  University  Press  in  1916  as  an  Indiana  state  centennial  edition.  For  some  account 
of  this  book  see  an  article  entitled  "Life  in  the  New  Purchase"  by  James  A.  Woodburn,  in  the 
Indiana  Magazine  of  History  for  December,  1913. 


20  Indiana  University 

I  do  not  certainly  know,  but  I  have  reasons  to  believe,  that  it 
was  the  new  State  Seminary  that  led  Hall  into  the  Indiana  wilder- 
ness.    He  was  scholarly,  and  his  brother-in-law,  Isaac  Reed,  must 
have  seen  that  if  he  were  only  on  the  ground  when  the  time  for 
the  election  of  a  professor  came  he  would  surely  be  the  chosen  one. 
At  any  rate  Hall  came,  and  on  reaching  the  state  he  went  to 
his  Gosport  relatives,  where  he  remained  until  the  Seminary  apple 
ripened  and  was  ready  to  fall  into  his  open  mouth.     During  his 
sojourn  there  he  assisted  his  brother-in-law  in  a  tanyard  and  in  a 
country  store.     He  hunted  a  good  deal  and  became  an  expert 
marksman;  preached  some,  went  to  log-rollings,   house-raisings, 
quiltings,  camp  meetings,  political  speakings,  and  was,  he  himself 
says,  "the  very  first  man  since  the  creation  of  the  world  that  read 
Greek  in  the  New  Purchase". 

In  November,  1823,  the  Seminary  building  had  progressed  so  far 
toward  completion  that  it  was  thought  advisable  to  elect  a  teacher, 
and  take  such  other  steps  looking  to  the  commencement  of  educa- 
tional work  as  should  be  deemed  proper.  Accordingly,  on  Novem- 
ber 20,  the  board  being  in  session,  the  Rev.  Baynard  R.  Hall  was 
elected  such  teacher  "for  the  term  of  one  year,  the  school  to  com- 
mence as  early  as  practicable  the  next  spring".  Two  terms  per 
year  of  five  months  each  were  provided  for,  and  the  tuition  fixed  at 
five  dollars  per  term,  but  was  subsequently  raised  to  ten.  The 
teacher's  salary  was  fixed  at  $250  per  annum,  the  trustees  reserving 
to  themselves  the  right  to  pay  more  should  the  income  admit  of  it — 
a  right  that  we  believe  was  not  exercised. 

One  of  the  curious  chapters  of  those  times  would  narrate  the  low 
wages  paid  for  all  kinds  of  intellectual  labor.  The  governor  of  the 
state  received  $1,000  per  annum;  a  supreme  judge  and  a  judge  of  the 
circuit  court  each  $700;  a  member  of  the  General  Assembly  drew 
$2  per  day,  and  legislated  on  Christmas  and  on  New  Year's  days 
the  same  as  on  any  other,  except  when  they  happened  to  fall  on 
Sunday.  Ministers,  well  educated  and  of  excellent  abilities,  who 
received  salaries  of  $300  were  deemed  well  paid.  The  great  majority 
were  paid  much  less  than  this.  The  Rev.  Joseph  Tarkington  and 
Joseph  Evans,  who  rode  the  circuit  in  the  Indiana  district  in  the 
twenties,  each  received  $63  for  the  year's  labor.  During  the 
ministerial  year  of  1823-24,  the  Rev.  Aaron  Wood  traveled,  accord- 
ing to  his  diary,  2,250  miles,  preaching  288  times,  for  a  salary  of 
$50.  The  author  of  Early  Methodism  in  Indiana  says : 

Our  presiding  elder,  Rev.  Allen  Wiley,  a  man  of  varied  learning,  deep  in  theol- 
ogy, strong  in  faith,  and  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  received  that  year  (1830)  as  his 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  21 

portion  of  the  sum  total  $20.  My  colleague,  Rev.  Amos  Sparks,  a  most  unique 
man,  full  of  good  common  sense,  of  marked  eloquence  and  power  in  the  pulpit,  and 
popular  with  the  people,  received  for  his  portion,  being  a  married  man  with 
several  children,  $175,  a  part  of  which  was  paid  in  dicker. 

Two  years  after  the  election  of  Baynard  R.  Hall,  Lucius  Alden,  a 
Presbyterian  clergyman  of  Boston,  was  elected  principal  of  the 
Aurora  Seminary  at  a  salary  of  $7'^  p-.?r  year  and  accepted.  His 
assistant,  Stephen  Harding,  afterwards  a  United  States  judge  in 
Utah,  was  paid,  says  an  authority,  $5  per  month,  and  $13  says 
another.  Probably  both  are  correct,  the  reference  being  to  differ- 
ent periods  during  his  term  as  assistant. 

The  simplicity  of  these  times  can  be  presented  in  no  stronger 
light  than  thru  the  methods  then  in  vogue  in  carrying  on  the 
ordinary  business  transactions  of  life.  Money  was  seldom  seen  in 
the  cabins  of  the  people.  Nearly  all  the  business  was  done  on  the 
basis  of  exchange  or  barter.  Ginseng  came  nearer  taking  the  place 
of  money  among  the  early  settlers  of  Pennsylvania  and  of  West 
Virginia  than  any  other  article.  Up  to  about  1787  it  was  a  medium 
of  exchange  in  use  by  all,  more  or  less,  but  a  sudden  collapse  of  the 
Chinese  market,  in  1788,  let  the  bottom  out  of  it.  In  the  beginning 
of  Indiana's  history  peltries,  and  especially  coon  skins,  were  the 
most  common  medium  of  exchange.  I  have  authority  for  saying 
that  the  coon  skin  "was  often  forced  upon  tax  collectors  and  post- 
masters in  payment  of  the  law's  demands".  But  the  coon-skin  era 
was  about  over  when  the  first  State  Seminary  professor  was 
elected.  His  salary  it  was  expected  would  be  paid  in  good  silver 
coins,  mostly  Spanish,  brought  in  by  the  White  river  flat-boatmen — 
fips,  bits,  pistareens,  quarters,  half-dollars,  and  maybe  a  few 
dollars.  Perhaps  a  part  in  "sharp  shins", — that  is,  triangular 
pieces  cut  out  of  the  larger  coins  by  the  country  blacksmiths, 
and  circulating  among  the  people ;  but  the  greater  part  of  the  salary 
was  to  be  paid  in  a  paper  currency,  not  much  less  fluctuating  in 
value,  if  any,  than  a  coon-skin  currency  would  have  been. 

But  there  was  another  salary  paid  to  the  professor,  which  it  was 
not  pretended  was  to  be  in  money,  true  or  false.  The  Presby- 
terian congregation  of  Bloomington  engaged  him  at  least  a  part  of 
his  time  to  preach  for  them  at  $150  per  year,  to  be  paid  in  "articles 
of  trade".  That  meant  the  same  as  the  Methodist  circuit  rider's 
"dicker" — corn,  bacon,  beef,  venison,  butter,  potatoes,  leather, 
feathers,  buckwheat  flour,  labor,  anything  the  subscriber  had  to 
give,  and  some  things  the  preacher  could  not  use.  At  this  very 
time,  and  for  a  good  many  years  thereafter,  the  schoolmasters  of 


22  Indiana  University 

Indiana  were  quite  generally  paid,  in  part  at  least,  in  articles  of 
traffic.  Ah!  the  stuff  that  has  been  doled  out  to  the  old  Indiana 
schoolmasters!  When  I  read —  and  remember,  too, — how  most  of 
them  would  thrash  their  scholars;  how  others  would  sleep  during 
school  hours;  how  one  played  the  fiddle  between  recitations  "for 
his  own  amusement",  how  another  kept  his  bottle  hid  in  a  hollow 
stump  hard  by  the  schoolhouse;  and  how  still  another  made  his 
scholars  work  in  his  clearing  during  the  noon  hour, — I  have  it  in 
my  heart  to  forgive  them,  when  I  further  remember  the  compensa- 
tion many  of  them  received.  Think  of  it!  One  dollar,  or  one  and 
one-half,  per  scholar  per  quarter,  and  "board  around", — one-half 
and  sometimes  more  to  be  paid  in  such  articles  of  trade  as  the 
patrons  could  spare.  I  read  of  an  old-time  schoolmaster  who  took 
part  of  his  pay  in  dried  pumpkin,  and  of  another  in  whiskey.  Corn, 
flour,  buckwheat  flour,  bacon,  turnips,  and  so  on,  were  constantly 
dealt  out  as  the  price  of  learning.  Young  as  I  am,  I  can  remember 
seeing  a  dripping  side  of  bacon  go  out  of  my  mother's  smokehouse 
to  the  master  who  had  been  doing  his  utmost  to  lick  me  into  shape 
during  the  preceding  winter. 

I  have  heard  it  said  that  the  Fathers  were  overhasty  in  setting 
the  machinery  of  the  State  Seminary  in  motion.  "Oh,  if  they  had 
only  waited  till  the  land  was  worth  $30  or  $40  an  acre,  then  sold 
it,  what  a  munificent  endowment  it  would  have  made!"  was  an 
exclamation  I  once  heard.  True  enough.  But  what  would  have 
become  of  Indiana  in  the  meantime?  Never  in  the  history  of  the 
state  was  there  such  a  pressing  demand  for  a  school  of  higher  learn- 
ing than  when  the  trustees  determined  to  open  the  doors  of  the 
State  Seminary.  The  majority  were  doubtless  unconscious  of  that 
demand.  The  people  of  the  district  who  thought  the  sound-bodied 
man  that  applied  for  their  school  "a  lazy,  trifling,  good-for-nothing, 
who  wanted  to  make  his  living  without  work",  preferring  to  him 
a  lame  school-teacher  or  one  who  was  disabled  by  fits  for  manual 
labor,  were  no  doubt  on  the  side  of  that  majority.  But  there  was 
a  minority  that  stood  out  in  the  light — a  minority  that  saw  and 
heard  and  knew  and  acted;  and  let  us  thank  God  for  it,  and  not 
carp  at  them  nor  criticize  them  because  they  may  not  have  done 
away  back  there  the  thing  we  might  have  done  away  up  here. 

The  time  had  now  come  for  the  opening  of  the  State  Seminary. 
What,  if  any,  steps  were  taken  to  advertise  the  general  public  of  the 
new  school  is  not  now  known.  There  were  not  less  than  twelve  or 
fifteen  newspapers  printed  in  the  state  at  the  time,  and  it  is  not 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  23 

unreasonable  to  suppose  that  notice  was  given  thru  the  columns  of 
some  or  all  of  them.4 

Be  this  as  it  may,  on  ''the  first  day  of  May,  at  half-past  nine 
a.m.  anno  domini  1824",  the  State  Seminary  doors  were  opened 
for  the  reception  of  students.  On  this  May  morning  of  the  last 
year  of  the  first  quarter  of  a  century  now  nearing  its  close,  a  fire 
was  kindled  upon  this  altar  of  learning  that  has  never  been  extin- 
guished. During  all  the  years  that  have  come  and  gone  since  that 
May  Day  opening,  every  school  day  of  each  year  has  stood  witness 
to  the  coming  together  of  professors  and  students,  and  to  recitation 
and  drill  in  the  classroom. 

That  opening  morning  a  heterogeneous  crowd  of  youthful  candi- 
dates for  seminary  learning  greeted  the  young  professor  at  the 
"new  college",  as  the  building  seems  to  have  been  called  from  the 
beginning.  It  is  remembered  that  many  of  the  village  school- 
master's boys  forsook  his  unpretentious  school  that  May  Day,  and 
with  spelling-book  and  reader  and  ink-bottle  and  copy-book  applied 
for  admission  at  the  "new  college".  But  it  was  Greek  and  Latin 
only  at  the  "college",  and  the  boys  with  the  spelling-books  and 
readers  and  ink-bottles  and  copy-books  soon  returned  to  the  drowsy 
hum  of  lessons  in  the  town  schoolhouse. 

Ten  boys  were  left  in  the  Seminary  after  the  weeding  out  process 
was  over,  on  that  May  morning,  to  begin  at  the  beginning  of  a  pre- 
paratory course  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages.  These,  the  first 
to  drink  at  the  fountain  of  learning  opened  by  the  bounty  of  the 
state,  were  Findlay  Dodds,  James  F.  Dodds,  Aaron  Furgeson, 
Hamilton  Stockwell,  John  Todd,  Michael  Hummer,  Samuel  C. 
Dunn,  James  W.  Dunn,  James  A.  Maxwell,  and  Joseph  A.  Wright. 

An  interest  attaches  to  these  pioneers  greater  than  any  who  have 
come  after  them.  They  were  the  first  students  of  Indiana's  school 
to  feel  the  pangs  of  failure  and  to  know  the  joys  of  success.  They 
were  the  first  to  dream  dreams  of  those  lofty  achievements  among 
men  that  inflame  the  youthful  mind  with  a  desire  to  excel.  What 
of  the  ten?  All  lived  to  reach  manhood's  prime,  and  a  few  went 
down  into  a  ripe  old  age.  All  are  now  dead.  Each  in  his  chosen 
sphere  rendered  faithful  and  efficient  service  to  society.  Findlay 
Dodds  was  a  tanner.  James  F.  Dodds,  Aaron  Furgeson,  and 
Hamilton  Stockwell  were  physicians.  John  Todd  and  Michael 
Hummer  were  ministers  of  the  gospel.  Samuel  C.  Dunn  was  first 

*In  The  New  Purchase  it  is  said  that  notice  of  "the  necessary  books     .     .     .     was  given  at 
meeting,  and  in  several  other  ways,  for  the  last  four  weeks"  (ch.  xlii). 


24  Indiana  University 

a  merchant,  next  followed  railroading,  then  banking,  and  in  his  old 
age  held  public  office  by  the  suffrages  of  his  neighbors.  James 
Dunn,  James  A.  Maxwell,  Joseph  A.  Wright  were  lawyers, — one  of 
whom,  Joseph  A.  Wright,  attained  the  honorable  position  of  gov- 
ernor of  Indiana,  and  subsequently  served  his  country  faithfully  and 
well  in  a  diplomatic  position  in  a  foreign  country. 

For  a  period  of  three  years — from  1824  to  1827 — Baynard  R. 
Hall  was  the  sole  professor  in  the  Indiana  Seminary.  No  cata- 
logs were  printed  during  the  Seminary  period,  and  the  trustees' 
records  have  been  destroyed  by  fire;  and  our  knowledge  of  the 
history  of  this  period  is  limited  by  that  much.  In  1828  a  legis- 
lative resolution  called  out  a  report  from  Dr.  Maxwell  which,  for- 
tunately for  this  history,  has  been  preserved  in  the  House  Journal 
for  that  year.  From  that  report  we  learn  that  thirteen  students 
attended  the  Seminary  the  first  year;  fifteen  the  second;  twenty- 
one  the  third.  The  professor's  salary  of  $250,  as  originally  made, 
was  continued  at  that  sum  for  three  and  a  half  years ;  during  which 
period  he  preached  to  the  Presbyterian  church  of  this  town,  for 
which  service  they  paid  him"$150  in  articles  of  trade".  At  the 
end  of  the  three  and  a  half  years,  the  trustees  forbade  the  preaching, 
and  advanced  his  salary  to  $400. 

It  was  resolved  by  the  board,  sometime  during  the  second  year, 
"that,  in  addition  to  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages  heretofore 
taught  in  the  State  Seminary,  there  shall  be  taught  by  the  said 
Hall  .  .  .  English  Grammar,  Logic,  Rhetoric,  Geography, 
Moral  and  Natural  Philosophy,  and  Euclid's  Elements  of  Geom- 
etry". But  for  some  reason  now  unknown,  it  seems  the  requirement 
was  not  complied  with;  for  in  Dr.  Maxwell's  report,  above  referred 
to,  occur  these  words :  "During  the  first  three  years  one  teacher  on- 
ly was  employed  by  the  trustees,  and  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages 
alone  were  taught  during  that  time."  As  the  third  academic  year 
drew  to  its  close,  it  became  evident  that  the  advancement  of  the  old 
students  required  the  introduction  of  other  branches  of  learning 
than  Greek  and  Latin.  More  than  half  of  those  enrolled  contem- 
plated the  full  collegiate  course,  and  preparation  must  be  made  for 
that,  else  there  would  be  an  hegira  to  other  schools.  So  the  trustees 
resolved  to  elect  a  professor  of  mathematics,  pure  and  applied. 

If  there  was  a  dearth  of  candidates  when  the  first  professor  was 
elected,  it  was  not  to  be  so  when  it  came  to  the  election  of  the  second. 
What  notice  was  given  of  the  proposed  election  is  not  known;  but 
some  notice  must  have  been  given  that,  at  the  May  meeting  of  the 
board  for  1827,  a  mathematics  professor  would  be  elected,  for  one 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  25 

candidate  dated  his  letter  of  notification  to  the  board  "April  20 ", 
which  was  twenty  days  before  the  election  was  held.  Much  un- 
certainty seems  to  have  existed  in  the  minds  of  some  of  the  appli- 
cants for  the  place  as  to  the  real  work  to  be  required  of  the  new  pro- 
fessor, and  the  qualifications  requisite  for  doing  it.  One  of  the  can- 
didates informed  the  board  that  he  was  "educated  in  England,  and 
would  accept  the  situation  at  a  salary  of  $250  and  find  his  own 
family".  Another  hinted  that  while  he  might  be  a  little  rusty  he  was 
confident  that  by  hard  study  he  could  easily  keep  ahead  of  his 
students. 

The  names  of  only  a  few  of  the  candidates  have  come  down  to 
us.  Mr.  Beverly  W.  James,  the  village  schoolmaster  whose  scholars 
forsook  him  for  the  "new  college"  on  that  May  Day  morning  of  three 
years  before,  gave  notice  that  he  would  accept  the  place  if  tendered. 
And  so  did  a  young  lawyer,  then  recently  come  to  the  state,  Delana 
E.  Eccles,  who  subsequently,  after  serving  for  many  years  on  the 
circuit  bench,  was  for  a  time  professor  of  law  in  the  University. 
Another  applicant  was  a  "Mr.  Pharis",  the  Rev.  James  Paris  of 
South  Carolina,  who  about  that  time  was  organizing  a  Reformed 
Presbyterian  church  in  the  neighborhood. 

One  more  name  remains  to  be  mentioned — John  M.  Harney's, 
the  successful  applicant's.  Mr.  Harney  was  a  young  man,  fresh 
from  the  Miami  University,  where  he  had  recently  graduated.  In 
truth  he  came  from  Oxford  to  Bloomington  walking  all  the  way, 
accompanied  by  a  young  friend,  Robert  Caldwell,  who  subsequently 
achieved  reputation  as  chief  of  the  United  States  Marine  Corps, 
with  whom  he  had  formed  a  college  friendship.  No  one  knows  the 
roads  these  youthful  knights  in  pursuit  of  a  college  professorship 
traveled ;  but  as  Harney  had  relatives  living  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Greensburg,  whom  he  is  remembered  to  have  visited  a  few  years 
later,  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  he  traveled  the  road  leading 
from  Oxford  to  Greensburg;  and  if  so,  the  young  men  came  by  the 
way  of  Columbus,  a  town  lately  planted  on  the  Driftwood,  and 
thence  by  the  way  of  the  new  road  thru  the  wilderness  of  Brown 
county. 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  the  year,  a  season  when  the  roads  were 
always  bad  in  the  new  state  of  Indiana.  What  a  toilsome  journey 
theirs  must  have  been,  and  how  the  discomforts  must  have  multi- 
plied on  the  way.  The  weather  was  warm,  and  they  could  hardly 
have  ended  their  journey  without  encountering  one  or  more  showers 
of  rain.  But  they  reached  Bloomington  in  time  for  the  election.  It 
is  related  of  them  that  shortly  before  attaining  their  journey's  end, — 


26  Indiana  University 

wearied,  footsore,  and  travel  stained, — they  halted  at  a  creek, 
bathed,  and  washed  their  shirts  and  dried  them  in  the  sun;  and 
were  enabled  to  make  their  way  into  Bloomington  in  clean  linen. 

On  his  arrival,  Harney  addressed  a  letter  to  the  trustees  which 
was  so  different  in  its  tone  and  spirit  from  any  of  the  other  letters 
before  them,  judging  from  the  few  that  have  survived  the  ravages  of 
time,  that  it  must  have  engaged  their  serious  attention  at  once. 
Time  has  dealt  hardly  by  this  letter,  but  enough  of  it  remains  for  us 
to  see  that  a  man  possessed  of  a  courageous,  self-reliant,  self- 
confident  spirit  composed  it.  And  more  than  that,  its  author  had 
ideas  concerning  the  branches  of  learning  that  ought  to  be  taught 
from  the  chair  to  which  he  aspired;  and,  next  to  money,  ideas  were 
what  the  trustees  most  wanted  to  enable  them  to  carry  on  the  work 
of  the  Seminary. 

As  the  day  of  the  election  drew  nigh,  a  thunderstorm  uprose  in 
the  Bloomington  sky.  Want  of  time  forbids  our  stopping  to  con- 
sider the  causes  that  led  to  its  appearance  at  this  particular  juncture. 
Ever  since  that  May  Day,  when  the  Bloomington  youth  with 
spelling-book  and  reader  were  forbidden  to  enroll  their  names  as 
students  in  the  State  Seminary,  that  cloud  had  been  gathering.  It 
took  the  election  of  a  mathematics  professor  to  set  the  elements  in 
commotion  and  bring  the  storm  to  a  head.  There  were  rival  candi- 
dates in  the  field,  most  of  whom  had  a  personal  following.  Each 
set  of  partisans  backed  up  its  man,  and  it  would  be  strange  if  some 
partisans  did  not  talk  down  the  others.  Harney,  being  a  stranger, 
was  without  backers ;  nevertheless  the  trustees  had  not  been  long  in 
session  in  the  Seminary  building,  when  it  was  made  apparent  that 
Harney  was  their  favorite.  The  news  flew  to  the  town,  and  at  once 
an  uproar  began.  The  late  partisans  of  the  different  candidates 
coalesced  and  made  common  cause.  Harney  was  understood  to  be 
a  Presbyterian,  and  at  once  the  cry  of  sectarianism  arose.  Next 
followed  the  old  and,  in  that  day,  all-potent  shout  of  Aristocrat! 
It  was  evident  to  the  malcontents  that  a  crisis  had  arisen ;  and  some- 
thing, in  their  judgment,  must  be  done  and  done  quickly  to  save 
the  Seminary  to  the  people.  General  Jacob  B.  Lowe,  the  clerk  of 
the  circuit  court  and  a  politician  of  that  period,  is  found  at  the  head 
of  a  deputation  who  go  to  remonstrate  with  the  trustees.  As  they 
go,  some  one  huzzas,  and  the  trustees  hear  and  know  what  it  means. 
News  seems  to  have  flown  as  rapidly  from  the  town  to  the  Seminary 
as  from  the  Seminary  to  the  town.  At  once  the  trustees  proceed 
to  the  election  of  a  professor;  and  lo!  John  M.  Harney  is  elected. 
Barely  is  this  done,  when  the  burly  form  of  General  Lowe  enters 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  27 

the  door,  with  his  friends  at  his  heels.  Patiently  the  trustees  listen 
to  his  speech,  after  which  the  diplomatic  Dr.  Maxwell  makes  a 
soothing  speech  in  reply,  and  the  thunder-cloud  disappears. 

Harney  entered  at  once  upon  his  duties,  at  a  salary  of  $250  per 
year.  At  the  end  of  six  months,  on  the  recommendation  of  the 
Board  of  Visitors,  the  salaries  of  the  two  professors  were  raised  to 
$400  each. 

The  increase  in  students  following  the  election  of  the  new  profes- 
sor justified  the  action  of  the  board  in  bringing  him  in.  During  the 
spring  and  summer  term  of  1827,  the  number  in  attendance  was 
twenty-six.  At  the  opening  of  the  following  fall  and  winter  session, 
"about  forty  students"  were  present,  which  number  so  materially 
increased  during  the  term  that  Dr.  Maxwell  wrote,  in  January, 
"there  is  a  probability  there  will  be  fifty  or  sixty  students"  in 
attendance  before  the  close  of  the  session. 

Would  that  we  knew  more  than  we  do  of  the  students  and  of 
student  life  at  the  Indiana  State  Seminary!  All  the  students,  as 
far  as  I  know,  came  from  Indiana  homes.  Nearly  or  quite  every 
county  on  the  border,  and  a  good  many  inland  counties,  were  repre- 
sented during  the  period.  And  what  toilsome  journeys  most  of  the 
boys  had  to  make  to  reach  here!  Young  Austin  Shipp  of  Johnson 
county  walked.  He  went  by  way  of  Columbus,  a  more  direct  road 
not  yet  having  been  cut  out.  It  is  in  memory  still  how  matrons 
from  cabin  doors  kindly  greeted  the  lad  who  passed  by  on  his  way 
to  college,  with  his  bundle  swung  on  a  stick  over  his  shoulder. 
College!  None  of  those  old  Seminary  boys  went  to  a  seminary.  No, 
indeed!  With  them  it  was  college  from  the  start. 

Doubtless  there  were  others  who  went  to  "college"  on  foot  in 
those  early  days;  but  the  majority  traveled  on  horseback,  most  of 
whom  would  "ride  and  tie".  This  was  a  favorite  mode  of  travel, 
and  was  well  adapted  to  the  necessities  of  the  college  student.  By 
it  two  would  travel  with  one  horse,  and  "ride  and  tie"  time  about; 
which  means  that  one  would  ride  in  advance  a  given  distance,  and 
tie  the  horse  and  walk  on,  leaving  his  companion  to  come  up  to  the 
horse  and  mount  and  ride  on  past  the  foot-man  a  proper  distance, 
when  he  in  turn  would  dismount,  tfe,  and  walk  on. 

I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  present  to  you  the  late  General  Dunn's 
account  of  his  coming  to  the  State  Seminary: 

A  few  days  before  the  opening  of  the  session,  May  first,  1826,  if  you  had  been 
here  to  look,  you  might  have  seen  emerging  from  the  green  woods  north  of  Bloom- 
ington,  a  man  on  horseback;  and  as  his  horse  veered  from  one  side  of  the  road  to 
another,  to  avoid  a  stump  or  mudhole,  you  might  have  seen  that  there  was  riding 


28  Indiana  University 

behind  the  man  on  the  same  horse  a  little  speck  of  a  boy  about  eleven  years  of  age. 
They  were  father  and  son,  but  the  son  was  so  small  that  it  was  considered  a  useless 
waste  of  horse-power  to  furnish  him  a  horse  all  to  himself  for  this  journey.  They 
had  thus  ridden  all  the  way  from  Crawfordsville,  then  a  two  days'  journey  on 
horseback.  Between  Crawfordsville  and  Greencastle,  it  was  then  an  almost 
unbroken  wilderness,  and  these  travelers  had  made  part  of  their  way  through  the 
woods  along  an  Indian  trail.  The  boy  enjoyed  the  ride,  for  sweet  was  the  breath 
of  spring  in  the  green  wildwoods,  the  aroma  of  the  spice-bush  perfumed  the  air, 
and  the  bloom  of  the  dogwood  and  the  redbud  with  blended  beauty  adorned  the 
green-leafed  forest 

That  little  boy  was  my  father  in  the  sense  of  the  saying  the  boy  is 
the  father  of  the  man.  In  a  few  days,  he  (I)  was  admitted  as  a  student 
in  the  State  Seminary,  then  regarded  as  the  highest  and  best  school  in  the  state; 
was  introduced  to  Ross's  Latin  Grammar,  and  soon  was  nearly  worrying  the  life 
out  of  poor  "Stella,  a  star",  in  putting  her  through  the  cases  of  the  first  declension 
of  nouns. 

According  to  my  recollection  there  wrere  but  nine  students  at  the 
Seminary  that  session,  of  whom  I  was  the  smallest  and  Dr.  Maxwell  [James  Dar- 
win] was  the  youngest.  Perhaps  I  might  as  well  say  that  I  was  a  student  here 
in  the  Seminary  and  in  the  College  six  and  a  half  years,  and  was  the  first  graduate 
of  Indiana  who  commenced,  continued,  and  completed  his  entire  preparatory 
and  collegiate  course  in  this  institution.  At  the  first  organization  of  the  students 
into  regular  college  classes,  I  constituted  the  sophomore  class;  and  for  an  entire 
session  I  had  a  bench  all  to  myself  at  college  prayers,  by  virtue  of  my  being 
all  the  sophomore  class. 

How  did  the  students  get  their  trunks  here?  They  had  no 
trunks.  Those  who  walked  carried  their  clothes  with  them,  tied 
up  in  a  handkerchief.  In  1835  Robert  Dulaney  of  Clark  county, 
Illinois,  attended  college  here.  He  says: 

I  went  by  the  way  of  Terre  Haute,  Bowling  Green,  and  Spencer  to  Bloom- 
ington,  a  distance  of  about  eighty  miles.  A  boy  went  along  to  take  the  horse 
back.  There  were  two  terms  a  year,  and  I  carried  all  my  clothes  necessary  for  a 
term  in  saddle  bags.  This  was  the  practice  of  all  who  went  to  college  on  horseback 
in  that  day. 

The  students,  when  they  reached  Bloomington  in  those  far-off 
primitive  times,  found  rooms  and  board  with  the  citizens  of  the 
town,  in  much  the  same  manner  as  students  have  done  ever  since. 
In  a  majority  of  the  counties  represented  here,  old  forts,  built  as  a 
protection  against  the  Indians  during  the  troublesome  times  of  1811 
to  1814,  were  still  standing,  and  were,  as  we  may  well  suppose, 
objects  of  romantic  interest  to  the  youth  of  the  land.  What  more 
natural  than  to  designate  a  house,  where  two  or  more  roomed,  a 
"fort"?  Hawthorne  tells  us  that  the  grim  Puritan  children  played 
at  hanging  witches  and  making  Indian  campaigns.  Our  own  Sem- 
inary boys  brought  with  them  the  memory  of  border-war  times  in 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  29 

Indiana,  and  lived  in  "forts",  and  (what  is  more  to  the  purpose) 
the  practice  thus  inaugurated  has  been  handed  down  unbroken  to 
the  present. 

The  fame  of  Indiana  Seminary  was  spreading  abroad.  Its  pro- 
fessors were  men  of  learning,  full  of  zeal,  and  greatly  beloved  by 
their  students.  It  had  no  competition  within  the  state,  and  it  was 
receiving  a  liberal  patronage  for  the  times.  Its  students  were  begin- 
ning to  assume  college  airs.  They  had  organized  a  literary  society — 
the  Henodelphisterian  Society,  they  called  it — which  was  so  exceed- 
ingly classical  that  every  student  in  joining  was  compelled  while 
within  its  hall  to  take,  in  lieu  of  his  own  plain  name,  one  once  cur- 
rent in  the  streets  of  Greece  or  Rome.  Here  young  Pericles  sat 
down  with  Solon  and  Cicero  and  Ajax  and  Timoleon,  and  began  the 
serious  business  of  essay-reading,  declamation,  and  debating.  And 
at  stated  intervals  these  young  classicists  gave  public  exhibitions, 
wherein  they  displayed  their  literary  skill.  The  first  one  of  these 
"feasts  of  reason"  was  in  the  new  brick  courthouse  and  has  the  merit 
of  having  been  embalmed  in  The  New  Purchase,  Professor  Hall's 
book.  McKee  Dunn  was  the  "little  speck  of  a  boy"  in  that  exhi- 
bition, and  delighted  the  audience  with — 


You'd  scarce  expect  one  of  my  age 
To  speak  in  public  on  the  stage. 


General  Dunn,  in  a  conversation  not  long  before  his  death, 
paid  a  glowing  tribute  to  the  memory  of  Professor  Hall.  "Little 
as  I  was",  said  he,  "Hall  took  the  utmost  pains  to  drill  me  well  in 
my  part,  and  I  got  hints  from  him  which  have  stood  me  in  good  turn 
all  through  my  life." 

But  we  must  hasten  on.  The  end  of  the  Seminary  is  close  at 
hand.  On  November  1,  1827,  a  Board  of  Visitors  made  its  appear- 
ance on  the  Seminary  grounds.  Two  of  those  visitors  were  prom- 
inent men  in  their  day,  one  being  no  less  a  personage  than  James  B. 
Ray,  the  governor  of  the  state,  and  the  other  James  Scott,  a  judge 
of  the  supreme  court.  The  law  required  a  good  deal  at  the  hands 
of  the  board.  It  was  made  their  duty  to  examine  each  student  in 
all  branches  he  had  gone  over,  and  after  everything  else  was  done, 
one  of  the  board  was  to  make  a  speech  to  the  boys.  The  law  seems 
to  have  been  obeyed  to  the  letter,  and  the  visitors  went  away 
charmed  with  what  they  had  seen  and  heard.  The  governor  made 
his  report  thru  his  .annual  message.  Judge  Scott  wrote  the  report 
for  the  Board  of  Visitors,  and  Dr.  Maxwell  followed  by  a  report  as 
president  of  the  Board  of  Trustees.  Message  and  reports  all  made 


30  Indiana  University 

proclamation  that  the  time  had  come  when  the  Seminary  should  be 
raised  to  the  dignity  of  a  college. 

A  bill  was  prepared  having  that  end  in  view ;  and  notwithstand- 
ing that  a  serious  effort  was  made  to  move  the  institution  to  another 
town,  it  was  finally  passed  and  signed  by  the  governor.  Thus  by 
legislative  enactment,  on  January  24,  1828,  the  Indiana  State 
Seminary  was  merged  in  the  Indiana  College. 

II.  FROM  SEMINARY  TO  COLLEGE  (1826-29)1 

IN  THE  BEGINNING  the  Indiana  Fathers  had  no  thought  of  a  state 
seminary.  Indeed  they  had  no  thought  of  a  state  college.  Nothing 
short  of  a  university  was  to  satisfy  them,  for  in  euphonious  phrase 
they  declared  in  the  organic  law  of  1816  for  a  "system  of  education 
ascending  in  regular  gradation  from  township  schools  to  a  State 
University". 

But  the  State  Seminary  came  first.  That  was  inevitable.  The 
time  had  not  yet  come  in  America  when  universities  could  be  flung 
out  upon  the  world,  strong  and  full  grown,  by  a  constitutional  or 
legislative  enactment.  The  Seminary  was  a  makeshift.  It  was  so 
regarded  at  the  time  of  the  passage  of  the  act  providing  for  it,  and  it 
never  ceased  to  be  so  regarded  by  its  founders  and  by  those  who 
had  it  in  charge.  The  act  of  incorporation  was  notably  defective. 
In  the  very  next  legislature  that  met  after  the  act  became  a  law,  the 
educational  committee  of  the  lower  branch  called  public  attention 
to  the  "materially  defective"  nature  of  this  law,  and  at  the  same  time 
reminded  the  legislators  of  the  state  that  "the  means  afforded,  with 
proper  management,  could  not  fail  to  make  the  University  of  the 
State  as  rich  in  funds  as  any  in  the  Union". 

The  General  Assembly  that  passed  the  act  incorporating  the 
State  Seminary  raised  a  special  committee  whose  duty  it  was  to  pre- 
pare and  report  a  general  state  educational  plan  to  the  next  assembly. 
This  committee  reported  early  in  December,  1821,  covering  the 
whole  ground,  and  so  much  of  their  report  as  touches  upon  the 
subject  of  a  state  institution  of  learning  belongs  to  this  history.  It 
is  of  interest  not  only  because  it  proves  how  surely  the  promoters  of 
higher  education  in  Indiana  still  looked  to  the  establishment  of  a 
university  as  the  culmination  of  the  Indiana  educational  system, 
but  also,  and  in  a  still  larger  degree,  in  that  it  gives  us  a  clue  to  what 
the  men  of  that  day  had  in  mind  when  they  spoke  of  a  university ; 

*Read  by  Judge  Banta  as  the  annual  Foundation  Day  address,  in  the  Old  College,  January  20, 
1890. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  31 

and  furthermore,  what  they  regarded  as  an  adequate  endowment 
for  their  ideal  institution. 

Daniel  J.  Caswell,  an  old-time  lawyer  and  something  of  a  poli- 
tician who  resided  at  Brookville,  in  Franklin  county,  was  chairman 
of  the  committee  and  doubtless  inspired  and  wrote  the  report.  He 
was  a  lawyer  of  more  than  ordinary  ability  and  was  a  noted  special 
pleader.  There  are  those  who  claim  that  he  was  an  eastern  man  and 
a  scholarly  one.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  language  of  the  report  "be- 
wrayeth"  the  lawyer.  It  spake  the  shibboleth  of  the  bar.  Its 
"then  and  in  that  case"  was  a  phrase  much  loved  by  the  special 
pleaders  of  that  day — a  phrase  that  even  yet  may  be  heard  sounding 
as  an  echo  from  the  dead  past  in  the  courtrooms  of  the  state. 

The  committee  expressed  a  belief  that  the  Seminary  lands  could 
be  made  to  realize  such  an  amount  of  funds  as,  "with  some  assist- 
ance" would  "enable  the  state  to  occupy  in  a  literary  point  of  view  a 
highly  respectable  standing";  and  to  that  end  they  recommended 
that  a  university  be  established  to  be  known  by  the  name  of  "the 
University  of  Indiana". 

The  committee  was  not  only  hopeful  as  to  the  future,  but  it 
ingeniously  manipulated  the  figures  so  as  to  show  good  grounds  for 
that  state  of  hopefulness.  If  the  funds  of  the  institution  should  be 
"auspiciously  managed",  "then  and  in  that  case",  wrote  special 
pleader  Caswell,  the  University  of  Indiana  "with  some  assistance" 
(from  the  legislature,  presumably)  lay  within  their  grasp. 

But  suppose  the  legislature  to  be  unwilling  to  burden  the  public 
with  any  part  of  that  support,  what  then?  The  most  expedient 
plan,  as  introductory  to  a  university,  "will  be  to  establish  a  college 
first",  say  they.  The  report  continues: 

In  that  case  to  make  it  respectable  or  indeed  useful,  it  is  respectfully  submitted 
that  it  will  be  necessary  to  place  a  president  at  the  head  of  it  whose  duty  it  shall 
be,  besides  exercishig  a  general  superintendency,  to  participate  personally  in 
giving  instruction  to  the  highest  or  first  class  in  college  in  logic,  metaphysics, 
moral  philosophy,  and  criticism. 

They  recommended  further,  "a  professor  of  mathematics  and  natural 
philosophy";  a  professor  of  "geography,  ancient  and  modern,  and 
of  astronomy" ;  and  one  of  "the  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew  languages, 
with  one  or  more  assistants  or  tutors". 

This  is  the  first  that  is  heard  of  a  state  college  in  Indiana,  but  this 
college  was  to  be  a  temporary  expedient — a  stepping-stone  to  the 
more  pretentious  university  promised  by  the  constitution  of  1816, 
the  very  university  that  the  committee  evidently  had  very  much  at 


32  Indiana  University 

heart.  Found  the  college  first,  and  as  thus  outlined,  and  then  as  the 
available  funds  increased  add  to  it  a  professor  of  theology,  a  profes- 
sor of  law,  and  a  medical  school ;  and  lo !  you  have  the  University  the 
Fathers  had  in  mind. 

The  General  Assembly,  however,  did  not  concur  in  the  com- 
mittee's recommendations.  Their  report  was  referred  to  another 
committee,  and  so  much  as  is  outlined  here  was  never  again  heard  of. 
The  people  of  Indiana  were  not  yet  ready  to  attempt  the  educational 
scheme  proposed,  and  long  before  they  were  ready,  the  committee's 
plan  was  slumbering  in  the  archives  of  the  state.  Looking  forward 
to  the  end  of  a  period  of  six  years,  they  saw  with  the  aid  of  a  little 
arithmetical  computation  a  fund  augmented  by  sales  of  land  and 
interest  to  over  $260,000!  What  better  endowment  could  any 
university  want!  The  sixth  year  expired  in  December,  1827,  at 
which  time  the  best  that  Governor  Ray,  in  his  annual  message, 
could  say  was,  that  the  Seminary  lands  up  to  that  time  sold  in 
Monroe  and  Gibson  counties  "brought  a  fair  price,  producing  near 
$30,000".2 

"Introductory  to  an  university  will  be  to  establish  a  college", 
said  the  committee,  and  the  event  proved  the  truthfulness  of  the 
prediction.  The  college  was  established,  but  not  on  the  basis  of  a 
mistake  in  ciphering.  It  came  because  there  was  a  demand  for  it, 
and  it  came  ahead  of  any  endowment  worthy  of  the  name. 

To  James  B.  Ray,  the  governor  of  Indiana  from  1825  to  1831,  a 
lasting  debt  of  gratitude  is  owing  from  the  friends  of  the  Indiana 
University.  He  was  ever  the  outspoken  friend  of  the  State  Sem- 
inary. In  all  his  annual  messages  he  pressed  its  claims  upon  the 
legislature,  and  he  was  the  first  governor  to  suggest  the  propriety 
of  giving  it  aid  from  the  public  treasury.  So  zealous  was  he  in  his 
friendship,  that  to  advance  its  interests  he  at  one  time  left  his 
gubernatorial  duties  at  the  capitol  and  came  to  Bloomington,  that 
he  might  assist  in  an  examination  of  its  students  and  thus  better 
judge  of  its  real  value  to  the  state.  Governor  Ray  was  in  some 
respects  ahead  of  his  times.  In  the  language  of  one  of  his  biog- 
raphers, "He  saw  more  plainly  than  any  other  man  of  his  day  the 
future  of  the  state  in  which  he  lived."  No  man  in  the  state  saw 
more  clearly  than  he  how  imperatively  necessary  it  was  to  the  public 
welfare  that  the  State  Seminary  should  receive. the  fostering  care 
of  the  state.  In  his  annual  message  of  December  4,  1826,  he  presses 
upon  the  legislative  attention  in  strong  and  earnest  language  the 
claims  of  the  institution  and  the  utility  that  would  ensue  to  the 

This  was  a  mistake  of  the  printer  or  of  the  governor.— D.  D.  Banta. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  33 

state  from  a  liberal  cultivation  of  letters.  Had  it  been  left  to  him, 
there  cannot  be  much  doubt  that  the  institution  would  have  been 
endowed  with  a  liberality  far  in  advance  of  the  ideas  generally 
prevalent  in  his  day. 

The  governor's  recommendations  were  not  wholly  without  effect. 
Other  voices  than  his,  speaking  the  name  of  the  State  Seminary, 
were  heard  in  the  halls  of  legislation;  but  these  were  voices  crying 
down  what  he  sought  to  build  up.  There  were  those  who  saw  in  the 
teaching  of  Greek  and  Latin  to  the  exclusion  of  spelling  and  reading 
an  arraying  of  the  rich  against  the  poor ;  and  again  there  were  those 
who  saw  in  the  employment  of  two  Presbyterian  professors  the 
fostering  of  one  church  to  the  undoing  of  all  the  others.  The  student 
of  those  times  must  not  underestimate  the  potency  of  two  watch- 
words then  prevalent — aristocracy  and  sectarianism.  While  the  poli- 
ticians kept  the  poverty-stricken  people  of  Indiana  in  a  constant 
state  of  unrest  over  the  encroachments  of  an  ideal  money  power,  the 
sectaries  were  crying  out  from  their  watch  towers  against  the  sup- 
posed encroachments  of  each  other.  This  is  no  rhetorical  figure. 
The  theological  professorship  inevitable  in  the  University  of  Indi- 
ana, when  that  University  should  come,  according  to  the  prevailing 
opinion  of  the  times,  would  be  a  prize  well  worth  a  life  and  death 
struggle,  and  the  sooner  (it  was  believed)  that  struggle  was  begun 
the  better. 

A  painstaking  investigation  into  the  methods  in  vogue  in  the 
Indiana  Seminary,  and  for  that  matter  in  the  Indiana  College  after- 
wards, fails  to  disclose  any  teachings  or  practices  that  could  have 
been  objectionable  to  the  straitest  of  the  sects,  and  the  composition 
of  the  various  boards  of  trustees  (being  made  up  as  they  usually 
were  of  men  of  all  denominations)  utterly  forbids  the  thought  that 
such  was  the  case.  But  no  matter :  the  possession  of  the  theological 
professorship  when  it  should  come,  and  the  menace  of  two  Presby- 
terian professors  in  charge,  made  war  inevitable — a  war  that  went 
on  until,  after  many  years,  a  church  dignitary  could  point  with  pride 
to  the  fact  that  a  governor  had  been  elected  in  Indiana  by  the 
amen-corner  of  his  church. 

Let  no  one  misapprehend  me.  I  am  not  assailing  anybody — I  am 
not  defending  anybody.  I  give  the  facts  as  I  find  them.  They  are 
a  part  of  the  history  of  the  times.  The  action  of  every  party  con- 
cerned in  the  State  College  controversy  was  the  result  of  conditions 
for  the  existence  of  which  the  men  of  that  day  were  in  no  wise 
responsible.  The  battle  was  inevitable,  and  in  the  long  run  has 
proved  a  blessing  to  the  state. 


34  Indiana  University 

Between  the  governor's  commendations  on  the  one  hand  and  the 
warnings  against  the  asserted  evil  practices  of  the  classical  aristo- 
crats and  sectaries  on  the  other,  the  General  Assembly  passed  a  law 
providing  for  a  Board  of  Visitors  consisting  of  twenty- four  members, 
any  five  of  whom  when  met  in  Bloomington  on  the  Thursday  pre- 
ceding the  commencement  of  the  supreme  court  should  constitute  a 
quorum.  It  was  made  the  duty  of  this  board,  among  other  things, 
to  examine  the  records  kept -by  the  Board  of  Trustees,  the  rules 
adopted  for  the  government  of  the  students,  and  to  examine  the 
students  themselves  as  to  their  progress  in  their  various  studies. 

No  doubt  it  was  the  legislative  hope  that  this  committee  would 
either  be  able  to  uncover  something  pernicious  to  sound  morality 
and  good  government  or  be  able  to  give  such  positive  assurances 
of  the  nonexistence  of  anything  objectionable  as  should  allay  the 
mistrust  of  the  people.  At  the  appointed  time  a  quorum  of  the 
members  of  the  visiting  board  met,  of  whom  one  was  the  governor. 
Another  was  James  Scott,  a  judge  of  the  supreme  court.  The 
examinations  of  records,  of  rules,  of  courses  of  study,  and  of  students, 
was  had  as  required  by  law,  and  the  Governor's  next  message  and 
the  committee's  report,  the  latter  written  by  Judge  Scott,  both  bore 
ample  testimony  to  the  skill  of  the  teachers,  the  proficiency  of  the 
scholars,  the  administrative  wisdom  of  the  trustees,  and  the  non- 
existence  of  aristocratical  and  sectarian  influences.  And  both 
recommended  that  collegiate  powers  be  granted  to  the  institution 
at  Bloomington. 

Could  not  this  be  made  a  solution  of  the  whole  difficulty?  In 
the  new  organic  act  a  board  of  trustees  could  be  made  up  so  that 
all  the  contending  factions  would  be  fully  represented  and  the 
presence  of  one  prove  a  check  upon  the  other. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  on  the  eighth  day  after  the  visiting  board's 
report  was  read,  Isaac  Howk,  the  member  from  Clark  and  the  chair- 
man of  the  committee  on  education,  reported  a  bill  to  establish  "the 
Indiana  College"  at  Bloomington. 

It  would  not  be  of  any  public  interest  to  follow  the  bill  thru  its 
various  vicissitudes  until  it  became  a  law.  Two  incidents,  and  only 
two,  are  now  known  to  have  been  connected  with  its  passage  that 
may  profitably  engage  the  attention  of  the  hearer.  One  is  a  report 
made  by  Dr.  David  H.  Maxwell,  the  president  of  the  Board  of 
Trustees,  in  response  to  a  resolution  offered  in  the  House  by  Mr. 
Stapp  of  Jefferson,  from  which  we  learn  that  the  fall  term  of  the 
then  present  academic  year  had  opened  with  an  attendance  of 
forty  students,  which  attendance  would  probably  be  increased  to 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  35 

fifty  during  the  term,  and  which  increase,  the  good  doctor  very 
adroitly  suggested,  would  be  "owing  to  the  prospect  of  the  Seminary 
obtaining  collegiate  powers".  "Seven  or  eight  young  men",  the 
report  goes  on  to  say,  "are  now  at  Oxford,  Ohio,  who  before  going 
called  at  the  Seminary  at  Bloomington,  but  finding  everything 
involved  in  uncertainty  left  our  own  state  to  obtain  an  education 
in  another." 

The  other  incident  to  which  reference  is  made  was  an  outside 
movement  of  a  threatening  nature,  but  which  so  far  as  now  known 
had  no  connection  with  the  other  troubles.  A  petition  was  pre- 
sented signed  by  certain  citizens  of  Indianapolis  praying  the  legis- 
lature to  memorialize  Congress  on  the  subject  of  a  grant  of  land  to 
establish  a  seminary  of  learning  at  the  capital.  The  success  of  this 
movement  meant  death  to  Bloomington,  and  its  projectors,  afraid 
of  the  chairman  of  the  Senate's  educational  committee  who  hap- 
pened to  be  the  president  of  the  State  Seminary's  Board  of  Trustees 
(Dr.  Maxwell),  took  it  to  the  House,  where,  after  it  was  read,  it  was 
referred  to  Mr.  Howk's  committee.  On  the  same  day  that  Dr. 
Maxwell's  report  as  to  the  condition  of  the  Seminary  was  read  to  the 
House,  the  Indianapolis  scheme  was  strangled  by  an  unfavorable 
report  from  Mr.  Howk's  committee.  After  this  he  called  up  his 
College  bill,  and  it  was  passed  without  a  call  of  the  vote;  and  in  due 
time  it  was  also  passed  by  the  Senate.  On  January  24,  1828,  just 
eight  years  and  four  days  after  the  incorporation  of  the  State 
Seminary,  and  two  years,  eight  months,  and  twenty-three  days 
after  it  was  opened  to  students,  Governor  Ray  signed  the  bill.  Thus 
the  Seminary  passed  out  of  existence  and  the  Indiana  College  took 
its  place. 

Excepting  its  Boards  of  Trustees  and  Visitors,  the  College  in- 
herited all  there  was  of  the  Seminary — its  students,  its  buildings,  its 
reputation,  its  poverty,  its  professors,  its  methods,  and  even  the 
contention  of  its  professed  friends  and  the  malice  of  its  enemies,  not 
to  mention  the  venom  of  the  demagogs  who  were  equally  ready  to 
curry  favor  with  the  populace  by  making  empty  speeches  in  praise 
of  education  in  the  abstract  or  by  shouting  with  the  mob  in  the  hue 
and  cry  of  aristocrat  and  sectarianism  when  the  Seminary  happened 
to  be  the  theme. 

The  act  of  incorporation  established  a  college  professedly  for  the 
"education  of  youth  in  the  American,  learned,  and  foreign  languages, 
the  useful  arts,  sciences,  and  literature".  Fifteen  trustees  were 
provided  for  and  named  in  the  act,  eight  of  whom  (Edward  Borland, 
Samuel  Dodds,  Leroy  Mayfield,  Jonathan  Nichols,  James  Blair, 


36  Indiana  University 

David  H.  Maxwell,  William  Bannister,  and  William  Lowe)  were  of 
Monroe  county.  The  remaining  seven  were  distributed  as  follows : 
George  H.  Dunn,  of  Dearborn  county;  Christopher  Harrison,  of 
Washington;  Seth  M.  Leavenworth,  of  Crawford;  John  Law,  of 
Knox;  Williamson  Dunn,  of  Montgomery;  Ovid  Butler,  of  Shelby; 
and  Bethuel  F.  Morris,  of  Marion. 

It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the  act  establishing  the  Indiana 
College  was  skilfully  and  understandingly  drawn.  Of  the  three 
organic  acts  that  have  from  time  to  time  been  passed  for  the  gov- 
ernment of  this  institution,  it  is  by  all  odds  the  most  lawyer-like  one. 
We  may  not  be  quite  sure  what  the  author  of  the  act  was  driving 
at  where  he  makes  the  preamble  to  say  that  the  College  is  established 
"for  the  education  of  the  youth  in  the  American  .  .  .  lan- 
guages"; but  there  is  no  mistaking  him  nor  the  spirit  of  the  hour 
when  he  provides  that  no  teacher  shall  be  required  by  the  board  to 
"profess  any  religious  opinions"  and  that  "no  student  shall  be 
denied  admission  or  refused  any  of  the  privileges,  honors,  or  degrees 
of  the  College  on  account  of  the  religious  opinions  he  may  entertain, 
nor  shall  any  sectarian  tenets  or  principles  be  taught,  by  any  presi- 
dent, professor,  tutor,  or  instructor." 

Having  provided  against  what  were  supposed  to  be  the  wiles  of 
the  time,  the  act  in  clear  and  exact  language  set  forth  the  functions 
of  the  institution,  and  fixed  the  powers,  rights,  and  duties  of  all 
connected  with  it.  It  outlined  the  typical  American  college  of  that 
day — the  college  of  arts  and  sciences — the  college  especially  or- 
dained to  give  general  and  even  culture  in  all  the  departments  of 
polite  learning.  It  came  at  a  time,  too,  when  most  needed  in 
Indiana;  and  how  well  it  served  the  purpose  of  the  state  that  called 
it  into  being,  its  history  amply  shows. 

Having  thus  far  briefly  referred  to  the  causes  that  led  to  the 
creation  of  the  Indiana  College,  and  to  the  legal  act  of  creation  itself, 
let  us  here  stop  and  take  a  look  at  the  surroundings. 

Lifting  our  eyes  to  a  horizon  bounded  by  state  lines,  we  find  that 
in  spite  of  the  poverty  of  the  pioneer  settlers  and  the  sickness  and 
hardships  incident  to  the  settlement  of  a  densely  wooded  country, 
concerning  which  something  was  said  from  this  platform  one  year 
ago,  there  has  been  a  marked  growth  and  change  between  the  years 
of  the  founding  of  the  Seminary  and  of  the  College.  The  popula- 
tion of  the  state  has  risen  from  147,000  in  1820  to  not  less  than 
300,000  in  1828.  Twenty-two  new  counties  have  been  added  to  the 
map  of  the  state,  the  years  of  organization  and  the  names  of  which 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  37 

will  indicate  to  one  somewhat  acquainted  with  the  geography  and 
history  of  the  state  the  progress  and  course  of  settlement.  In  1821 
Decatur,  Greene,  Henry,  Parke,  and  Union  counties  were  organized; 
in  1822  Marion,  Putnam,  Rush,  and  Shelby;  in  1823  Johnson, 
Hamilton,  Madison,  and  Montgomery;  in  1824  Allen,  Hendricks, 
and  Vermilion;  in  1825  Clay;  in  1826  Fountain  and  Tippecanoe; 
in  1827  Warren;  and  in  1828  Carroll  and  Hancock.3 

No  assessment  of  property  for  revenue  was  made  till  nine  years 
after  the  act  organizing  Indiana  College  became  a  law,  revenue  be- 
ing raised  mainly  by  taxes  laid  on  land  and  polls;  but  while  in  1820 
the  amount  secured  from  this  source  was  $17,000,  in  1828  it  had 
amounted  to  something  over  $43,000. 

All  the  state  from  the  headwaters  of  the  Tippecanoe  river  south- 
ward had  been  cleared  of  Indian  titles,  save  the  "Miami  national 
reserve"  and  a  few  other  "reserves",  insignificant  in  area;  and  in  the 
same  year  that  the  College  was  chartered,  by  a  treaty  held  at  the 
Carey  Mission,  the  Indian  title  was  extinguished  to  fully  a  third  of 
all  the  land  north  of  the  Tippecanoe. 

The  United  States  surveyors  with  compass  and  chain  had  run 
the  lines  and  established  the  corners  as  far  north  as  where  the 
Wabash  extends  its  course  from  the  east  to  the  west,  a  distance  of 
nearly  forty  miles  thru  the  twenty-seventh  tier  of  townships. 

The  year  that  the  Seminary  was  chartered,  the  New  Purchase, 
comprising  an  extensive  region  bordering  on  the  north  branch  of 
White  river  and  its  tributaries,  was  first  opened  to  the  pioneer  set- 
tlers; and  now,  in  the  year  of  the  chartering  of  the  College,  all  the 
state  from  the  Wabash  southward,  save  the  "reservations",  was 
opened  to  movers  who  were  thronging  in  in  search  of  homes. 

The  statutes  of  the  state  during  these  early  years  bear  indubi- 
table evidence  of  the  solicitude  of  the  public  men  of  the  state  as  well 
as  of  the  people  in  general  for  the  cause  of  education.  In  1824  "an 
act  to  incorporate  congressional  townships  and  provide  for  public 
schools  therein"  was  passed,  which  if  not  followed  by  results  that 
were  satisfactory  to  the  friends  of  education,  cannot  be  overlooked 
altogether  by  him  who  would  know  something  of  the  educational 
history  of  the  times.  There  were  too  many  obstacles  in  the  way  for 
the  establishing  of  an  effective  school  system  in  that  early  day,  but 
the  Fathers  planned  better  than  they  knew  in  providing  thus  early 
for  an  accumulative  school  fund  which  has  grown  to  be  larger,  the 

•A  full  list  showing  the  dates  of  organization  of  the  counties  of  Indiana  is  given  by  Dr.  Ernest 
V.  Shockley,  '09,  in  an  article  entitled  "County  Seats  and  County-seat  Wars  in  Indiana"  (Indiana 
Magazine  of  History,  March,  1914). 


38  Indiana  University 

state  superintendents  proudly  tell  us,  by  more  than  two  millions 
of  dollars  than  the  common  school  fund  of  any  other  state. 

A  system  of  county  seminaries  was  early  provided  for,  which, 
if  it  proved  a  failure  in  the  long  run,  nevertheless  is  highly  suggestive 
of  the  laudable  aspirations  of  the  time.  In  many  counties  suitable 
buildings  were  erected,  and  in  some  schools  were  maintained  whose 
influence  for  good  proved  a  power  in  the  state. 

Up  to  1828  nineteen  private  academies,  seminaries,  and  gram- 
mar schools  had  been  chartered,  and  all,  most  probably,  were 
opened  for  the  reception  of  students.  In  most  if  not  all  of  these  a 
fairly  good  English  education  could  be  had,  and  in  some  a  classical 
in  addition. 

The  tendency  of  the  legislation  of  the  state  was  to  encourage 
the  dissemination  of  knowledge.  It  came  to  be  a  sort  of  fashion  of 
the  times,  both  in  and  out  of  the  legislative  halls,  to  view  with  a 
friendly  eye  all  educational  schemes — a  fashion  that  happily  for  the 
state  has  not  yet  gone  out  of  vogue. 

During  these  early  years  it  was  made  the  rule  to  confer  upon 
each  new  county,  in  the  act  incorporating  it,  the  power  to  organize 
and  maintain  a  public  library — a  power  of  which  most  if  not  all 
the  counties  availed  themselves.  Most  of  those  old  libraries  have 
long  since  been  scattered,  but  their  catalogs  of  books,  now  and  then 
to  be  found  on  the  mildewed  pages  of  long  laid  aside  records,  show 
their  shelves  to  have  been  filled  with  the  standard  literature  of  the 
day. 

In  1824  steps  were  taken  by  the  Indiana  bar  looking  to  the 
founding  of  a  state  law  library,  and  in  the  following  year  the  Indiana 
State  Library  was  founded  and  an  annual  appropriation  of  $30  made 
with  which  to  buy  new  books,  and  a  special  one  of  $50  with  which 
to  pay  for  the  rebinding  of  certain  old  books  then  on  hand. 

In  this  necessarily  brief  and  partial  review  of  the  educational 
forces  at  work  in  Indiana  at  the  time  of  the  chartering  of  the  College, 
let  us  not  overlook  the  fact  that  the  press  had  come  in  along  with 
the  vanguard  of  the  movers.  As  early  as  1804  Elihu  Stout  had 
packed  press  and  types  on  horseback  from  central  Kentucky  to 
Vincennes,  where  he  at  once  founded  the  first  newspaper  printed 
within  the  Indiana  Territory.  In  1819  John  A.  Scott  packed  a 
Ramage  press  from  Philadelphia  over  the  mountains  to  the  head  of 
river  navigation,  whence  he  easily  descended  to  Indiana  and  began 
the  publication  of  a  weekly  newspaper  in  the  town  of  Brookville. 
As  the  population  of  the  state  increased,  the  printing  presses  mul- 
tiplied, and  by  the  time  the  College  was  chartered  there  were  no  less 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  39 

than  twenty  weekly  newspapers  issued  between  the  Big  Miami  and 
the  Wabash.4 

One  of  these  was  a  paper  founded  in  Bloomington  as  early  as  1826 
by  Jesse  Brandon.  He  and  his  brother  were  the  second  Indiana  state 
printers,  and  he  brought  to  this  town  the  press  on  which  was  printed 
the  acts  of  the  General  Assembly  and  other  state  documents  for 
many  years,  which  press  was  here  as  late  as  1854.  And  so  was  the 
ex-state  printer,  the  ghost  of  his  former  self,  an  aged,  lean,  and  frail 
bachelor  who,  to  keep  himself  warm  during  the  hard  winters  we 
sometimes  had  "before  the  war",  had  a  curious  habit  of  sleeping 
between  two  smooth  sticks  of  cord-wood  thoroly  heated  on  a  drum- 
stove. 

But  the  greatest  of  all  the  educational  forces  at  work  in  those 
primitive  days  was  the  country  school,  where  "licken  and  larnen" 
jogged  along  hand  in  hand  in  the  good  old  way.  I  say  greatest, 
because  it  was  in  the  old  log  schoolhouses  that  the  rank  and  file  of 
the  youth  of  the  new  state  were  taught  the  elements  of  book  knowl- 
edge. 

In  this  connection  we  cannot  afford  to  ignore  the  one  place  in 
the  state  where  was  to  be  seen  a  great  light.  It  was  at  New  Har- 
mony, in  Posey  county  on  the  Wabash.  There  Robert  Owen,  a 
canny  Scotchman,  having  succeeded  by  purchase  to  the  possessions 
of  the  Rappites,  had  begun  his  socialistic  experiment  in  1825,  the 
very  year  the  State  Seminary  was  opened;  and  altho  before  the 
first  regular  college  classes  were  formed  in  Indiana  College  the 
sanguine  reformer  saw  that  his  experiment  was  doomed  to  failure, 
nevertheless  New  Harmony  was  already  radiant  with  scientific 
thought  and  work.  It  is  a  story  that  reads  like  enchantment, 
a  story  of  the  Owens — father  and  three  sons,  each  of  the  latter  to 
become  prominently  identified  with  the  history  of  the  state.  David 
Dale  Owen,  the  eldest,  early  in  1828  established  a  geological  labor- 
atory in  New  Harmony  and  ultimately  was  appointed  United 
States  geologist  for  the  Northwest,  and  served  at  one  time  or 
another  as  state  geologist  for  three  states,  Indiana,  Kentucky,  and 
Arkansas.  New  Harmony  was  headquarters  for  all  his  geological 
surveys.  Robert  Dale  Owen,  literarian  and  politician,  began  his 
career  in  Indiana  in  the  same  year  as  editor  of  the  New  Harmony 
Gazette  and  in  1827  published  Pocahontas — A  Drama,  the  first  dis- 
tinctively literary  work  by  an  Indiana  author.  For  over  thirty 
years  he  was  closely  identified  with  the  political  and  legislative 

«Dr.  Logan  Esarey,  '05,  has  practically  completed  for  the  Indiana  Historical  Survey  a  volume 
on  the  history  of  the  press  in  Indiana. 


40  Indiana  University 

history  of  the  state.  He  was  a  member  of  the  commission  that 
framed  the  Indiana  code  of  1852 — a  code  remarkable  for  its  literary 
excellence  and  for  the  radical  changes  made  in  the  law  as  to  the 
property  rights  of  married  women,  for  both  of  which  he  is  entitled 
to  credit  beyond  any  other  man. 

There  were  others  at  New  Harmony  who  were  already  (in  1828) 
renowned  or  were  to  become  renowned.  There  was  Frances  Wright, 
who  in  that  year  delivered  her  first  public  address  in  New  Harmony 
• — the  first  public  address,  I  have  no  doubt,  given  in  the  state  by  a 
woman,  if  not  the  first  in  the  Northwest.  Thomas  Say,  the  eminent 
naturalist  from  Philadelphia,  was  also  there  busily  engaged  on  his 
afterwards  justly  celebrated  work  on  conchology,  and  publishing 
from  time  to  time  learned  papers  on  entomology,  which  have  since 
been  given  to  the  world  in  two  octavo  volumes.  William  Maclure, 
geologist  and  publicist,  was  there  also.  He  was  one  of  the  founders 
of  the  Philadelphia  Academy  of  Sciences,  and  in  after  years,  with  a 
benevolence  unexampled  in  Indiana  history,  gave  a  large  fortune 
to  the  establishing  of  libraries  in  every  county  of  the  state  for  the 
benefit  of  the  common  people.  And  Lesseur,  the  French  naturalist, 
who  had  been  among  the  earliest  to  study  the  strange  forms  of  animal 
life  in  New  Holland  (near  Australia),  was  at  this  very  time  "working 
on  the  description  and  figures  of  the  Wabash  fishes"  with  head- 
quarters at  New  Harmony.  And  so,  too,  was  Amphlett  there, 
writing  the  text  to  accompany  the  publication  of  Michaux's  Sylvia 
Americana.  Dr.  Richard  Owen6,  who  was  yet  in  his  teens,  writes 
that  "in  1828  and  subsequently  I  saw  him  at  this  work." 

Others  might  be  mentioned  as  residents  of  New  Harmony  in 
1828,  who  by  their  scientific  investigations  added  to  the  fame  of  the 
place.  There  was  Joseph  Neef,  a  former  coadjutor  of  Pestalozzi, 
and  an  author  of  books  on  education.  "He  was  at  the  head  of  the 
New  Harmony  Education  Society."  And  also  Dr.  Gerald  Troost, 
a  German  geologist  who  subsequently  made  a  geological  survey  of 
Tennessee,  and  became  president  of  the  Tennessee  University. 

What  a  community  of  workers  to  be  sure !  Their  very  presence 
made  a  university — an  unchartered,  unendowed  world's  university! 
How  very  much  darker  all  the  rest  of  the  state  must  have  seemed 
by  contrast  with  that  New  Harmony  light. 

Outside  of  the  work  of  the  Harmony  folk,  not  a  book  had  been 
written  and  published  in  the  state  excepting  the  laws  and  other 

•The  third  son  of  Robert  Owen;  professor  In  Indiana  University,  1863-79.  Owen  Hall  com- 
memorates his  connection  with  the  University.  In  1913  hia  bust  was  placed  in  the  Statehouse  at 
Indianapolis  by  a  committee  of  Confederate  Veterans  in  recognition  of  his  humane  treatment  of 
Confederate  prisoners  while  serving  as  colonel  of  an  Indiana  regiment  in  charge  of  Camp  Morton- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  41 

things  published  by  public  authority,  and  excepting  now  and  then  a 
political  pamphlet.  It  was  to  be  two  years  before  John  Finley  was 
to  write  "The  Hoosier's  Nest",  the  earliest  poem  to  survive  to  our 
times;  and  it  was  to  be  two  years  before  Judge  Blackford  was  to 
publish  the  first  volume  of  his  series  of  Blackford's  Reports. 

Let  us  turn  to  Bloomington.  What  of  it?  The  population  of 
Monroe  county  in  1828  was  about  4,60P6,  and  of  Bloomington  about 
600.  The  town  was  still  in  the  woods.  Its  few  business  houses 
were  confined  to  the  west  side  and  the  west  half  of  the  south  side  of 
the  public  square.  Its  one  hundred  or  more  residences  occupied 
the  other  parts  of  the  square  or  straggled  in  the  rear.  The  court- 
house was  finished,  and  when  not  used  for  court  purposes  was 
locked  against  all  intruders,  save  such  as  had  a  curious  longing  to 
know  more  of  architecture  than  the  ordinary  log  cabin  taught. 
East  of  the  row  of  dwellings  on  the  east  side  of  the  square  was  an 
open  common  used  by  the  county  militia  on  training  days  and  by 
any  other  citizens  on  any  day  when  they  happened  to  find  it  necessary 
to  settle  an  argument  by  fist  and  skull.  It  was  on  that  common 
that  an  ingenious  Monroe  county  man — a  very  prince  among  the 
slick  citizens  of  his  day — soaped  himself  all  over  and  went  into  win. 

Bloomington  was  well  connected  by  mail  with  all  the  prominent 
towns  in  the  state,  and  its  mail  facilities  were  quite  good  for  an 
interior  town  in  1828.  Up  to  about  1836  it  had  but  one  mail  a  week, 
but  that  was  quite  regular  save  when  the  roads  were  very  bad  or 
the  waters  uncommonly  high.  Up  to  1826  the  weekly  mail  was 
carried  on  horseback  by  a  "little  old  man"  who  announced  his 
coming  by  a  blast  from  his  postman's  horn.  He  came  from  Salem 
by  the  way  of  Sparks'  Ferry  on  White  river,  and  Fairfax  on  Salt 
creek.  In  that  year  the  route  was  changed  thru  Bedford.  If  there 
was  any  other  change  for  ten  years  my  informants  have  forgotten 
it.  I  suspect  there  was ;  but  in  1836  a  tri-weekly  mail  came.  It  was 
brought  by  John  and  Samuel  Orchard,  who  saw  that  the  mail  bags 
were  sent  three  times  a  week  over  the  long  road  between  Indian- 
apolis and  Leavenworth  on  the  Ohio  river.  During  the  season  of 
dry  weather  they  sent  the  bags  by  stage  coaches,  but  in  the  winter 
and  spring  on  horseback,  save  between  Bloomington  and  Indian- 
apolis. Over  that  part  of  the  line  the  bags  were  often  too  heavy  lo 
go  on  horseback,  and  when  so  the  fore  wheels  of  a  road  wagon 
would  be  hitched  to,  the  bags  thrown  on,  and  thus  wheeled  to  their 
destination. 

•Judge  Banta  appends  here  a  footnote  showing  that  he  arrived  at  this  figure  by  multiplying 
921,  the  number  of  polls  in  1828,  by  5,  the  estimated  ratio  of  persons  to  adult  males. 


42  Indiana  University 

In  1840  a  tri-weekly  branch  line  was  opened  up  connecting 
Louisville  with  the  Leavenworth  route  at  Salem.  Lateral  lines  were 
established  from  time  to  time,  one  from  Bloomfield  to  Bloomington 
in  1836  or  1837,  and  one  to  Columbus  a  little  later.  In  1848  the 
long  lines  were  broken  up  and  a  system  of  shorter  ones  established 
in  lieu  of  them;  and  in  1853  the  advent  of  the  railroad  in  Bloom- 
ington put  an  end  to  the  further  carrying  of  the  mail  bags  on  horse- 
back, on  wheels,  and  in  stage  coaches. 

But  let  us  turn  to  the  Indiana  College  itself;  what  of  it  on  this 
January  24,  1828?  Its  endowment,  as  stated  by  Dr.  Maxwell  in 
his  letter  to  Dr.  Wylie  announcing  his  election,  was  "nearly  $40,000" 
and  brought  in  an  income  which  he  "estimated  at  something  like 
$2,000";  and  from  the  report  of  the  treasurer  of  state  made  about 
the  same  time  it  appears  the  unsold  College  lands  were  between 
seventeen  and  eighteen  thousand  acres,  which  it  is  supposed  were 
worth  as  many  dollars  as  there  were  acres. 

There  were  two  buildings,  one  built  for  a  professor's  residence, 
and  the  other  a  plain  brick  rectangular  structure  two  stories  high, 
containing  six  rooms,  one  of  which  was  the  chapel  and  another  the 
Henodelphistei ian  Society's  room,  leaving  four  rooms  for  recitation 
purposes. 

Now  add  the  thirty-five  students  that  Dr.  Maxwell,  in  his  letter 
to  Dr.  Wylie,  says  were  in  attendance,  most  of  whom  were  in  the 
preparatory  department,  and  "none  of  whom  except  in  one  or  two 
branches  had  advanced  beyond  the  studies  usually  pursued  in  the 
freshman  class",  and  we  have  the  warp  and  woof  of  the  Indiana 
College  the  first  year  of  its  existence. 

It  was  without  the  veriest  pretense  of  a  library,  and  there  was 
not  the  simplest  article  of  apparatus  connected  with  it. 

Outside  was  the  campus,  containing  ten  acres,  inclosed  with  a 
worm  fence,  and  surrounded  on  at  least  three  sides  with  walls  of 
living  trees.  On  the  town  side,  the  ax-men  had  been  at  work,  but 
it  was  many  years  after  1828  before  all  the  forest  trees  lining  College 
avenue  between  the  town  and  the  College  were  cut  down  and 
destroyed. 

The  campus  itself,  however,  was  bare  enough  of  tree  and  leaf. 
The  pioneers  were  soldiers  arrayed  in  hostility  to  the  trees,  and  with 
such  courage  and  persistence  did  they  carry  on  the  war  that  in  less 
than  the  life  of  two  generations  of  men  the  great  forests  of  Indiana 
have  been  destroyed.  As  for  the  campus  itself,  they  made  short 
work  of  it.  In  the  language  of  the  times,  they  cleared  it  "smack, 
smooth,  and  clean",  cutting  off  every  tree  save  a  very  few  in  the 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  43 

southeast  corner,  one  or  two  of  which  still  feebly  hold  out  against 
the  tramp  and  stamp  of  the  lusty  ball-players.7  But  the  stumps 
of  the  fallen  trees,  some  charred  and  blackened  by  fire  and  some  in 
Nature's  own  coat  of  brown  or  gray,  still  thickly  stood  all  over  the 
ground.  And  amidst  these  cumbering  stumps,  here  and  there,  were 
doubtless  to  be  seen  even  at  this  early  time  a  few  feeble  trans- 
planted bushes  and  shrubs.  Certainly  they  were  there  a  few  years 
later.  It  was  the  rule  of  the  pioneers  to  spare  no  green  thing  unless 
it  was  something  that  might  by  some  possibility  bear  fruit  or  make 
a  "gate  post".  "Let  the  sunlight  in"  said  they,  and  so  they  built 
their  cabins  and  schoolhouses,  their  meeting-houses  and  colleges,  in 
the  glare  of  the  sunshine,  and  afterwards  made  feeble  efforts  towards 
ornamentation  by  transplanting  black-locusts,  horse-chestnuts, 
willows,  or  some  other  abomination  to  be  found  somewhere  in  our 
American  forests. 

The  street  leading  from  the  College  to  the  town  was  unpaved 
and  the  sidewalk  was  a  footpath  in  clay.  The  first  improved  walk 
to  the  College,  consisting  of  hewed  logs  strung  end  to  end,  was  not 
yet  laid  down.  Young  Joseph  G.  McPheeters  and  George  Wash- 
ington Parke  Custis,  the  purchasers  of  the  logs  and  the  promoters 
of  that  enterprise,  were  not  yet  students  in  the  Indiana  College. 

Let  us  now  pass  to  the  organization  of  the  College.  On  the  first 
Monday  of  May,  1828,  ten  of  the  fifteen  trustees  met  at  the  College 
in  pursuance  of  the  requirement  of  the  law  appointing  them.  Of 
these  ten,  eight  were  from  Monroe  county;  another  was  George  H. 
Dunn,  from  Dearborn,  and  the  other  was  Seth  M.  Leavenworth, 
from  Crawford.  The  first  thing  done  was  to  organize  by  electing 
Dr.  Maxwell  president  of  the  board,  and  Prindiwell  H.  Dorsey,  sec- 
retary ;  after  which  the  board  proceeded  at  once  to  the  election  of  a 
president  of  Indiana  College.  One  name  and  one  only  was  pre- 
sented for  the  office  of  president,  that  of  the  Rev.  Andrew  Wylie, 
D.D.,  then  the  president  of  Washington  College  in  western  Pennsyl- 
vania, who  receiving  the  vote  of  every  member  present  was  declared 
duly  elected. 

Dr.  Wylie  was  a  native  of  the  county  wherein  was  the  college  of 
which  he  was  president — Washington  county — where  he  was  born 
on  April  12,  1789.  He  was  just  turned  into  his  thirty-seventh  year 
at  the  time  of  his  election.  He  was  of  Irish  descent  and  up  to  his 
fifteenth  year  had  lived  the  life  of  a  farmer  lad.  He  had  then 
entered  school  in  his  county  town  of  Washington,  and  on  being 

7When  this  address  was  written,  altho  the  University  was  located  on  its  present  site,  the  athletic 
field  was  still  on  the  Old  College  grounds, 


44  Indiana  University 

prepared  for  the  freshman  class  went  to  Jefferson  College  at  the 
town  of  Canonsburg,  seven  miles  from  Washington,  where  at  the 
age  of  twenty-one  he  graduated  with  the  honors  of  his  class.  His 
scholarship  and  superior  intellectual  endowments  engaging  the 
attention  of  the  Jefferson  board  of  trustees,  they  at  once  gave  him 
employment  as  a  tutor,  but  in  less  than  two  years  he  was  advanced 
at  one  bound  from  his  tutorship  to  the  presidency,  a  mark  of  con- 
fidence seldom  paralleled  in  the  history  of  American  colleges.  For 
seven  years  he  continued  at  the  head  of  his  Alma  Mater,  when  he 
wa^  elected  to  the  presidency  of  the  neighboring  institution,  Wash- 
ington College. 

Washington  and  Jefferson  were  rivals  and  always  had  been,  but 
an  effort  was  now  made  looking  to  a  consolidation;  and  Andrew 
Wylie,  it  was  hoped,  would  be  the  agent  thru  whose  influence  this 
desirable  end  was  to  be  brought  about.  The  effort  failing,  he  con- 
tinued to  occupy  the  Washington  presidential  chair,  and  was  there 
in  May,  1828,  when  Dr.  Maxwell's  letter  reached  him  announcing 
his  election  to  the  presidency  of  the  Indiana  College. 

It  is  evident  that  Dr.  Wylie  was  not  a  candidate  for  the  presi- 
dency of  the  new  college  of  the  new  state  of  Indiana.  In  truth, 
there  is  no  evidence  tending  to  show  that  he  had  any  knowledge 
that  his  name  would  be  up  for  consideration  in  connection  with  that 
office.  But  there  is  evidence  tending  to  show  that  the  Washington 
presidency  was  growing  irksome  to  him.  Dr.  Brown,  whom  he  had 
succeeded  as  president  of  Washington,  still  lived  in  the  town,  and 
his  presence  was  a  standing  menace  to  the  Canonsburg  Doctor. 
Letters  written  at  the  time  show  that  Dr.  Brown  and  his  friends 
would  have  taken  great  pleasure  in  seeing  Wylie  go  to  another  field. 
How  did  the  Indiana  trustees  know  of  him  and  of  his  fitness  for 
the  presidential  office?  There  was  no  educational  bureau  in  that 
day  to  serve  the  purpose  of  the  middle-man,  to  bring  the  electors 
and  the  candidate  into  communication.  Let  the  presidential  office 
of  this  University  become  vacant  today  and  in  less  than  a  month 
there  would  be  found  from  fifteen  to  fifty  willing  to  take  the  place, 
and  it  would  be  a  very  hard  day's  work  to  read  and  digest  all  the 
testimonials  that  would  be  sent  in. 

In  a  letter  written  to  Dr.  Wylie,  immediately  after  his  election, 
by  Professor  Hall,  that  gentleman  says: 

Mr.  John  H.  Harney,  professor  of  mathematics,  and  myself,  who  both 
have  long  proposed  and  desired  your  election  to  the  presidency  of  the 
College  of  Indiana,  cannot  but  be  extremely  solicitous  that  you  should 
accede  to  the  wishes  of  the  Board  of  Trustees,  which  by  this  time  must 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  45 

have  reached  you.  In  the  hope,  therefore,  that  it  may  aid  your  determin- 
ation, be  assured  that  the  call  of  the  board  is  entirely  unanimous  and 
cordial ;  that  it  meets  the  entire  approbation  of  the  townsmen  and  of  all  the 
principal  men  of  the  whole  state,  both  in  public  and  private  life. 

So  it  seems  Hall  and  Harney  both  recommended  his  election  to 
the  Board  of  Trustees.  But  there  is  a  tradition  that  William  Hen- 
dricks,  formerly  governor  of  the  state  and  at  the  time  a  United 
States  senator,  had  done  the  same  thing,  and  the  tradition  is  a 
reasonable  one.  The  rival  colleges  sent  their  sons  all  over  the  West. 
Two  of  them,  Jonathan  Jennings  and  William  Hendricks,  were 
governors  of  Indiana,  and  one,  Andrew  Davidson,  was  long  one  of 
the  judges  of  our  supreme  court.  The  year  that  saw  Andrew  Wylie 
a  senior  at  Jefferson,  saw  William  Hendricks  a  sophomore  at  the 
same  place,  and  when  Hendricks'  commencement  day  came,  Andrew 
Wylie  as  president  gave  him  his  diploma.  Hendricks  never  forgot 
his  former  fellow-student  and  college  president,  and  it  is  quite 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  he  gave  his  voice  in  favor  of  Wylie's 
election. 

Two  days  after  the  election,  Dr.  Maxwell  wrote  to  Dr.  Wylie 
announcing  the  action  of  the  board.  The  letter,  which  has  escaped 
the  ravages  of  time,  was  prepared  with  a  care  befitting  the  occasion. 
Its  excellence  of  chirography  and  elegance  of  diction  must  have 
engaged  the  attention  of  the  orderly  and  scholarly  man  to  whom  it 
was  sent.  It  is  quite  evident  the  writer  exercised  much  greater  care 
in  its  composition  than  he  usually  did  in  his  trustees'  reports  to  the 
General  Assembly.  General  Assemblies  met  in  Indiana  yearly,  but 
where  would  the  trustees  go  for  a  president  if  Wylie  failed?  And 
so  the  doctor  of  medicine  wrote  to  the  doctor  of  divinity  the  very 
best  letter  possible. 

How  very  slow  they  were  in  those  far-off  days !  Altho  the  writer 
of  the  letter  asked  for  as  "speedy  an  answer  as  possible",  it  was  ten 
months  before  the  final  answer  came.  Not  that  there  were  no 
letters  passing  between  Bloomington  and  Washington  in  the  mean- 
time. These  came  and  went  with  a  frequency  that  must  have  been 
sensibly  depleting  to  the  pocket  of  a  man  on  a  thousand-dollar 
salary  when  each  one  cost  him  twenty-five  cents  for  postage. 

"Come  and  look  the  field  over  anyhow",  wrote  the  Bloomington 
doctor  to  the  Washington  one;  and  sometime  during  the  fall  of  1828 
the  visit  was  made.  The  little  that  is  known  of  that  visit  is  highly 
suggestive  of  the  facility  with  which  the  events  of  life  may  be  for- 
gotten. There  is  a  bare  allusion  to  the  circumstance  of  the  visit 
in  a  letter  written  by  Dr.  Wylie,  which  letter  is  still  in  existence. 


46  Indiana  University 

One  glimpse  and  one  only  of  that  reconnoitering  tour  do  we  get 
from  the  memory  of  a  man  still  living. 

Late  on  a  Saturday  evening,  Dr.  Wylie,  wearied  and  travel- 
stained,  rides  into  the  town  of  Greensburg  in  Decatur  county,  and 
stops  at  the  taven  for  the  night.  The  word  at  once  goes  to  the 
Presbyterians  of  the  Sand  Creek  Church,  six  miles  east  of  the  town, 
that  a  doctor  of  divinity  from  western  Pennsylvania  would  preach 
in  their  meeting-house  on  the  morrow.  Volunteer  messengers, 
according  to  the  custom  of  the  times,  ride  up  and  down  the  neighbor- 
hood in  great  haste  carrying  the  message.  It  was  not  often  a  doctor 
of  divinity  penetrated  the  Indiana  woods  in  those  days  and  preached 
to  the  people,  and  so  it  was  not  at  all  strange  that  an  unusually 
large  congregation  listened  to  his  sermon  when  the  morrow  came. 
That  night  he  was  the  guest  of  a  Presbyterian  brother,  Judge  John 
Hopkins,  who  lived  three  miles  farther  on  the  road  toward  Cin- 
cinnati, where  he  again  delivered  an  impressive  discourse  to  a  house 
full  of  the  judge's  neighbors.  A  little  boy  then  present,  but  now  an 
old,  old  man,  Dr.  J.  H.  Donnell  of  Franklin,  remembers  Dr.  Wylie's 
touching  allusion  on  that  occasion  to  the  young  man  Eutychus,  who 
sinking  down  under  Paul's  long  preaching  fell  from  the  "third  loft 
and  was  taken  up  for  dead" ;  nor  has  he  forgotten  the  tearful  leave- 
taking  from  his  newly-made  friends  on  the  morrow,  nor  with  what 
grace  and  dignity  of  carriage  he  mounted  his  horse  when  the  time 
came  and  rode  off  homeward. 

Dr.  Wylie  had  traveled  from  Bloomington  to  Columbus  thru 
that  hill  country  that  afterwards  was  to  be  legislated  into  Brown 
county.  The  road  connecting  the  two  towns  had  been  recently  cut 
out,  and  it  wound  in  and  out  over  the  hills  and  thru  the  valleys 
without  much  regard  for  section  lines,  as  was  sometimes  the  case 
even  in  the  more  level  regions  of  the  state.  It  is  doubtful  whether 
he  passed  a  single  cabin  within  the  present  limits  of  that  county. 
The  Salt  creek  bottoms  were  one  vast  wilderness.  The  now  dead 
village  of  Hedgesville  had  not  been  founded  by  six  years,  and  it  was 
seven  before  the  first  cabin  was  built  in  or  about  Jacksonburg,  now 
Nashville. 

What  a  joy  that  ride  must  have  been  to  him,  dear  lover  of  the 
out-of-doors  that  we  know  him  to  have  been!  The  lofty  hills  and 
deep  valleys  called  to  mind  his  own  mountainous  country,  while  the 
gorgeous  and  variegated  hues  of  the  autumnal  woods,  and  the  odors 
from  ripening  nuts  and  falling  leaves  and  the  noise  of  birds  and 
animals  gleaning  the  rich  fruitage  of  the  woods  gave  to  it  all  an 
indescribable  charm. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  47 

From  Columbus  to  Greensburg  the  road  led  thru  a  settled 
country  all  the  way.  The  pioneers'  round-log  cabins  with  clap- 
board roofs  held  in  place  by  weight  poles  were  still  standing.  By 
the  side  of  many  of  them  stood  a  newer  house  built  of  logs  scotched 
to  a  face,  with  the  corners  neatly  notched  down.  Here  and  there  a 
double  or  "saddle-bags"  cabin  had  been  built,  according  as  the 
pioneer's  increase  of  wealth  and  of  family  had  warranted ;  and  once 
in  a  while,  but  not  often,  the  traveler  passed  a  still  more  pretentious 
structure,  made  of  hewn  logs  with  a  clap-board  roof  nailed  on,  and 
with  a  brick  or  stone  chimney  in  lieu  of  the  almost  universal  "mud 
and  stick"  affair. 

At  intervals  of  several  miles  his  eyes  rested  upon  a  cleared  but 
unfenced  space  by  the  roadside,  in  the  center  of  which  stood  the 
neighborhood  meeting-house,  built  of  hewed  logs,  or  mayhap  a 
framed  structure  un-weatherboarded  but  with  the  spaces  between 
the  upright  timbers  filled  in  with  clay.  Schoolhouses  too  were  to 
be  seen  and  for  that  matter  more  often  than  meeting-houses.  These 
were  rude  structures  made  of  logs  and  surrounded  by  unenclosed 
playgrounds.  The  great  mud  and  stick  chimney  at  one  end  of  each 
told  of  the  huge  fireplace  within,  while  the  entire  log  cut  out  at  the 
other  end  was  suggestive  of  the  flood  of  light  pouring  thru  "oil- 
paper glass"  itfpon  the  juvenile  makers  of  "pot-hooks  and  hangers" 
seated  at  the  long  tables  within. 

New  the  country  must  indeed  have  seemed  on  that  day,  but  new 
as  it  was,  the  traveler  would  have  seen  much  the  same  in  almost  any 
road  in  the  state,  a  fact  we  who  would  estimate  at  its  true  value  the 
founding  of  a  college  in  Indiana  in  1828  must  ever  keep  in  mind. 

From  Judge  Hopkins'  house  Dr.  Wylie  took  the  road  that  led 
by  Oxford,  the  seat  of  the  Miami  University,  where  he  visited  friends 
and  made  a  note  of  the  ill  consequences  of  putting  unseasoned 
lumber  into  college  buildings ;  and  thence  by  the  way  of  Cincinnati 
he  went  on  to  his  home. 

Not  till  March  20  following  his  election,  a  period  of  over  ten 
months,  does  he  make  up  his  mind  to  accept  the  Indiana  call.  From 
the  few  letters  wholly  or  partially  saved  from  destruction,  it  is 
evident  that  call  was  kept  sounding  in  his  ears.  Both  Maxwell  and 
Hall  wrote  often  and  earnestly  urging  acceptance,  and  doubtless 
other  citizens  of  the  state  were  equally  importunate. 

At  home  there  was  a  pressure  the  other  way.  The  friends  of 
Washington  College  pressed  him  to  stay  with  them,  and  he  found 
it  hard  to  cut  loose  from  lifelong  friends  and  to  abandon  the  ties  of 
kinship.  But  more  than  all  else  as  a  hindrance  was  his  distrust  of 


48  Indiana  University 

the  temper  manifested  toward  the  school  by  some,  and  especially 
toward  Professor  Harney  and  the  Board  of  Trustees  of  the  State 
Seminary  at  the  time  of  the  latter's  election. 

At  last  on  March  2$,  1829,  the  decision  was  made.     He  wrote: 

It  would  be  impossible  to  convey  to  you  in  a  letter  all  the  causes  of  that 
hesitancy  which  I  have  felt  in  relation  to  the  invitation  with  which  your  board 
have  honored  me.  Mr.  Harney's  narrow  escape  contributed  considerably  to 
continue  this  hesitancy.  But  I  have  determined  at  length  to  end  this  sus- 
pense, unpleasant  to  myself  as  it  can  be. 

He  said  he  would  accept.  But  he  asked  for  time  to  get  ready 
for  the  removal  of  himself  and  family.  He  could  not  enter  into  his 
new  field  of  labor  before  the  ensuing  fall,  and  he  gave  a  multitude  of 
reasons  for  the  delay. 

His  acceptance  was  hailed  with  joy  by  the  friends  of  the  College, 
but  there  was  regret  at  the  delay  to  come.  On  April  7,  1829,  Pro- 
fessor Hall  wrote  him  a  long  letter  urging  an  immediate  coming  and 
giving  ten  reasons  why  he  should  do  so,  eight  of  which  the  doctor 
himself  pronounced  "cogent",  and  some  of  which  are  of  historical 
significance. 

If  indeed  it  be  impossible  for  you  to  come  immediately,  either  from  the  health 
of  Mrs.  Wylie,  from  the  affairs  of  the  Allegheny  Seminary,  or  some  one  or  more 
causes,  it  will  be  superfluous  and  impertinent  to  urge  reasons  why  you  ought 
to  be  here  at  the  commencement  of  the  summer  session.  But  if  anything  be 
either  in  itself  or  relatively  important,  I  do  assure  you,  it  is  your  immediate 
removal  hither.  And  the  reasons  for  this  are  very  many;  more  than  can  be  prop- 
erly stated  in  one  or  twenty  letters.  I  will,  however,  state  two  or  three.  First, 
the  expectation  of  the  public  in  this  and  the  adjoining  states  has  been  raised — 
the  expectation  of  your  immediate  arrival.  They  believe  that  the  College  needs 
your  presence  and  must  dwindle  without  it;  they  have  been  waiting  for  your 
arrival  to  send  their  children.  If  you  still  delay,  the  public  expectation  will  be 
in  a  manner  disappointed;  their  desires  towards  us  flag;  and  consequently  their 
sons  sent  elsewhere.  Second,  we  hear  of  ten  or  twelve  young  men  waiting  to 
hear  your  decision  and  arrival,  who,  we  are  told,  will  go  to  other  places  unless 
you  come  directly.  Third,  some  students  we  are  informed  would  leave  other 
institutions  if  anyone  could  give  them  instruction  in  the  studies  of  the  junior 
and  senior  years,  and  this  they  know  cannot  take  place  without  your  presence. 
Fourth,  we  have  one  or  two  in  the  junior  year  who  talk  of  leaving  here  unless 
someone  instruct  them  in  the  same  studies,  as  they  wish  not  to  have  a  defective 
education.  Fifth,  our  trustees  at  their  last  meeting,  acting  from  some  foolish 
legal  quibbles  as  to  the  extent  of  the  charter,  cut  off  our  English  department 
and  came  near  destroying  the  grammar  school.  A  word  from  you  will  restore  all, 
and  not  till  restored  will  our  numbers  be  very  greatly  augmented.  .  .  .  Eighth, 
enemies,  you  know  from  Harney's  case,  the  College  has.  These  are  sorely  plagued 
at  your  acceptance.  They  will  be  utterly  defeated  by  your  immediate  removal. 
If  you  delay  I  dread  more  plots.  If  once  defeated  they  can  never  try  again. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  49 

.     .     .     Tenth,  the  spring  is  by  common  consent  the  best  season  for  a  removal. 
The  middle  of  summer  is  dangerous;  the  autumn  may  be  highly  so. 

But  it  was  in  vain  that  they  urged  him.  There  was  a  babe  in  his 
house  "not  yet  five  weeks  old" ;  he  had  in  his  hands  the  "business  of 
two  estates  in  which  widows  and  orphans  were  concerned";  and 
his  relations  to  the  Western  Theological  Seminary  made  it  neces- 
sary for  him  to  attend  the  meeting  of  the  General  Assembly  of  his 
church  to  be  held  in  Philadelphia  in  the  following  May. 

Out  of  this  General  Assembly  trip  came  the  nucleus  of  the  first 
Indiana  College  library.  The  Doctor  proposed  to  the  trustees  that 
after  his  assembly  work  was  done,  he  would,  if  they  approved,  visit 
divers  eastern  colleges  with  the  particular  purpose  of  examining 
their  buildings  and  studying  their  architecture;  and  he  proposed  also 
to  visit  the  moneyed  centers  and  solicit  donations  of  books  and  funds 
with  which  to  buy  books,  and  "an  apparatus"  for  the  College.  The 
trustees  gave  him  the  roving  commission  he  asked  for,  and  in  May 
he  went  to  Philadelphia. 

No  stronger  evidence  of  the  prevailing  poverty  of  the  times,  not 
to  say  of  western  servility  to  the  East,  can  be  found  than  this  com- 
missioning of  the  newly  elected  college  president  to  go  on  a  begging 
tour  for  a  state  institution.  To  the  president,  as  a  churchman,  it 
doubtless  seemed  well  enough,  for  the  church  is  divinely  commis- 
sioned to  ask  the  aid  of  the  faithful  everywhere  tr  carry  on  the 
church's  work;  but  for  a  board  of  trustees,  nominated  by  state 
authority  and  working  in  behalf  of  a  state  institution  from  which 
sectarianism  was  rigidly  excluded  both  by  law  and  public  senti- 
ment, it  was  quite  another  thing.  But  a  library  and  chemical  and 
philosophical  apparatus  were  so  much  needed,  and  there  was  such 
a  dearth  of  funds,  that  in  their  extremity  the  College  authorities 
humbled  themselves  and  their  state,  by  asking  the  full  purses  of 
the  East  to  contribute  to  their  wants.  Who  can  know  the  straits 
to  which  the  Fathers  were  reduced  in  the  upbuilding  of  our  beloved 
institution! 

In  Philadelphia  Dr.  Wylie  was  the  guest  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Samuel 
B.  Wylie,  his  uncle,  who  was  the  father  of  our  Dr.  T.  A.  Wylie,  then 
a  student  in  the  University  of  Pennsylvania.  In  that  city  he  made 
little  effort  for  books  or  funds.  "The  frequency  of  such  applications 
recently  in  Philadelphia",  he  wrote,  "prevented  my  attempting 
anything  there."  Nevertheless  he  must  have  solicited  books  from 
his  uncle,  and  that  not  without  avail,  for  when  the  boy  Theophilus 
had  grown  to  manhood  and  had  come  to  Bloomington  as  the  pro- 
fessor of  natural  philosophy  he  found  in  the  College  library  books 


50  Indiana  University 

that  he  recognized  as  old  and  familiar  friends,  books  that  once 
belonged  to  his  father's  library. 

From  Philadelphia  Andrew  Wylie  went  to  New  York,  where  he 
pressed  his  mission,  and  not  without  success.  First,  he  "prepared 
the  way",  as  he  himself  says,  by  preaching  on  the  Sabbath  "in  two 
of  the  churches"  and  the  next  two  days  he  employed  in  "making 
acquaintances".  "The  rest  of  the  week",  he  continues  in  a  letter 
written  to  the  president  of  the  board,  "I  design  to  spend  soliciting 
donations  and  hope  to  succeed  in  some  degree.  ...  I  shall  try 
hard  to  raise  funds  enough  in  this  region  to  procure  an  apparatus 
for  our  College." 

This  was  in  June.  How  long  a  time  he  spent  in  New  York  is  not 
now  known,  nor  what  other  towns  and  cities  he  visited,  if  any.  No 
money  was  procured  to  buy  the  much-talked-of  "apparatus", 
whatever  that  was,  but  the  solicitor  did  meet  with  no  mean  success 
in  his  pursuit  of  books.  "Two  hundred  and  fifty-five  volumes  so 
assorted  as  to  embrace  history,  geography,  belles  lettres,  and 
treatises  on  chemistry  and  mental  and  moral  philosophy"  was  the 
number  brought  in.  "These  books",  wrote  the  president  of  the 
board  in  his  report  to  the  General  Assembly  of  the  state,  "were  all 
new  and  of  the  most  approved  authors  and  estimated  at  being  very 
low  for  $600."  And  as  if  it  were  not  enough  to  report  to  the  legis- 
lature that  the  institution  had  after  five  years  procured  the  first 
books  for  a  library,  and  that  by  begging  them  in  the  East,  the  good 
man  triumphantly,  as  it  would  seem,  declared  that  these  books 
"have  not  cost  the  state  or  institution  a  solitary  cent"  but  were 
"gratuitously  presented  ...  by  various  donors  in  the  middle 
and  eastern  states".  Arthur  Tappan,  a  wealthy  and  charitable 
New  York  merchant,  contributed  $1QO  to  the  book  fund,  for  which 
generous  act  he  "received  the  special  thanks  of  the  board". 

During  the  twenty-two  months  that  intervened  between  the 
chartering  of  the  College  and  the  arrival  of  the  president  no  change 
was  made  in  the  curriculum  of  studies.  The  work  continued  to  be 
carried  on  in  all  respects  the  same  as  during  the  Seminary  days. 
But  there  seems  to  have  been  a  falling  off  in  attendance.  The 
thirty-five  students  that  were  on  the  ground  when  Dr.  Wylie  was 
elected  had  dwindled  to  twenty-four,  according  to  the  memory  of 
one  of  the  number  who  is  yet  living.8 

The  trustees  were  at  work  in  the  meanwhile,  having  caused  to  be 
erected  a  large  three-storied  brick  building  which,  when  completed 

sjudge  Banta  referred  to  Mr.  William  H.  Jones,  '36,  who  has  since  died  (July  29,  1897). 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  51 

two  or  three  years  afterwards,  vied  with  the  then  new  courthouse  in 
architectural  beauty  and  finish.  It  was  burned  in  the  spring  of 
1854. 

In  the  autumn  following  the  summer  trip  to  Philadelphia 
and  New  York,  we  find  the  president-elect  at  his  old  Washington 
home  ready  to  set  out  on  his  western  journey.  The  baby  had 
grown  somewhat  by  this  time,  the  trusts  for  the  widows  and  orphans 
were  settled,  and  the  care  of  the  Theological  Seminary  had  been 
left  with  the  General  Assembly,  and  there  was  nothing  to  detain 
him  longer.  But  a  protracted  drouth  had  put  the  rivers  at  a  low 
stage — so  low  a  stage  that  steamboats  could  ascend  the  Ohio  no 
higher  than  Wheeling.  As  the  time  passed  he  became  impatient 
to  be  off.  September  was  drawing  to  a  close  and  he  could  delay 
no  longer.  Four  two-horse  wagons  were  accordingly  laden  with 
his  household  goods  and  hauled  overland  to  the  head  of  steamboat 
navigation.  Fourteen  persons,  including  nine  children,  constituted 
President  Wylie's  family.  Lewis  C.  Bollman,  a  lad  of  eighteen, 
accompanied  him,  in  order  to  finish  his  education  in  the  new  Indiana 
College. 

On  September  27  the  movers  were  in  Wheeling.  The  river  was 
low,  so  low  that  the  steamboats  had  ceased  running  even  that  far  up, 
and  in  spite  of  their  journey  overland  they  were  compelled  to  wait 
for  a  rise.  Friends  and  relatives  lived  in  Wheeling,  who  were 
visited;  and,  a  Sunday  intervening,  Dr.  Wylie  preached  in  one  of 
the  city  churches.  In  "three  or  four  days"  the  river  began  to  rise, 
and  with  the  first  appearance  of  the  rise  the  steamboat  captains, 
ordering  the  fires  to  be  kindled  in  the  furnaces,  began  ringing  their 
bells,  and  all  was  soon  bustle  and  confusion  on  the  Wheeling  wharf. 
The  movers  with  all  th*eir  stuff  were  soon  aboard,  and  their  boat 
cast  off,  steaming  down  the  river  by  day  and  tying  up  by  night 
for  the  lagging  flood  to  overtake  them.  They  reached  Louisville 
in  time  for  the  Doctor  to  repeat  his  Wheeling  sermon  to  a  Louisville 
congregation  on  the  ensuing  Sunday. 

The  wagons  sent  by  Dr.  Maxwell  from  Bloomington  were  there 
on  his  arrival,  or  came  soon  after,  and  the  overland  journey  of 
ninety-five  miles  to  Bloomington  was  soon  begun.  The  Doctor, 
his  wife,  and  his  younger  children  rode  in  the  "barouche",  while 
others  went  in  the  wagons.  Young  Bollman  walked  part  of  the 
way  in  "company  with  a  wagon".  At  some  point  on  the  journey  he 
encountered  a  kinsman  on  horseback,  and  they  two  journeyed  on  to 
Bloomington  after  the  fashion  in  which  Samuel  Johnson  and  his 
friend  David  Garrick  went  down  to  London — they  "rode  and  tied". 


52  Indiana  University 

The  first  night  the  movers  stayed  at  New  Providence  with  Mrs. 
Borden,  and  here  they  saw  evidences  of  the  much-dreaded  fever  and 
ague,  to  guard  against  which  they  at  once  adopted  the  custom  of  the 
country  and  drank  whiskey  with  their  water.  The  next  day  at 
noon  they  reached  Salem  and  stopped  till  the  next  morning.  Here 
was  the  Salem  Academy,  a  school  founded  two  years  before  by 
John  I.  Morrison  and  already  widely  known.  The  afternoon  was 
devoted  to  visiting  this  school. 

The  president  had  written  to  Dr.  Maxwell  that  "it  would  be  im- 
portant that  the  manner  of  his  entrance  upon  the  sphere  of  his 
future  operations  should  attract  some  attention";  and  the  doctor 
and  the  two  professors,  and  perhaps  some  others,  resolved  that 
nothing  should  be  lacking  to  make  his  entrance  into  the  town  as 
inpressive  as  possible. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  of  October  9  when  the  immigrants 
arrived.  The  town  was  in  its  Sunday  best.  No  such  spectacular 
display  had  ever  been  witnessed  before  in  Bloomington  as  was  to 
be  witnessed  that  afternoon  and  evening.  A  deputation  consisting 
of  trustees,  county  officials,  professional  men,  private  citizens,  and 
students,  under  the  command  of  Gordon  Robinson,  a  military  man, 
having  been  a  soldier  in  the  War  of  1812,  were  to  meet  the  president 
at  a  designated  place  and  escort  him  into  town.  Bollman  had  told 
the  townspeople  at  about  what  time  to  expect  the  advent  of  the 
movers,  and  so  at  the  appointed  time  a  courier  rode  down  the  high- 
way till  he  met  them,  when  he  rode  back  to  give  notice  of  their 
coming.  A  sentinel  was  posted  in  a  beech  tree  in  the  campus  close 
by  the  spring  to  give  notice  of  the  coming  of  the  courier.  In  due 
time  the  warning  was  given,  and  professors  and  students,  trustees 
and  citizens,  all  marched  forth  in  double  file  to  meet  the  coming 
man.  At  the  proper  place  the  column  divided  and  the  cavalcade 
passed  between  the  two  rows,  who  gave  vent  to  their  joy  in  loud  and 
long  continued  huzzas!  To  the  eyes  of  the  Indiana  lads  present, 
some  of  whom  at  least  had  never  seen  a  vehicle  finer  than  a  "Dear- 
born wagon",  the  president's  "barouche"  was  an  imposing  affair. 

On  their  arrival  at  the  president's  house,  the  tired  movers  found 
it  "swept  and  garnished".  The  Bloomington  matrons  and  maids, 
vying  with  their  husbands  and  brothers,  gave  doubtless  the  more 
appreciative  welcome.  The  fire  played  cheerfully  upon  the  hearth- 
stone that  October  evening,  and  after  a  season  of  hand-shaking,  the 
tired  and  hungry  travelers  were  led  out  to  a  bountiful  supper.  A 
young  college  student,  McKee  Dunn,  saw  that  table  and  was  won- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  53 

derfully  impressed  with  its  tempting  viands  and  its  artistic  setting. 
He  never  forgot  that  the  "butter  was  ornamented  with  a  spray  of 
cedar". 

An  illumination  followed  the  supper.  It  must  have  been  a 
unique  affair.  A  pole  was  raised  above  the  roof  of  the  new  College. 

The  upper  end  passed  through  a  center  of  radiating  pieces  bounded  by  a 
circumference,  and  continued  to  rise  yet  a  few  feet.  Near  its  top  crossed  a  bar 
at  right  angles;  and  at  each  end  of  the  bar  a  candle  represented  a  professor,  and 
a  very  large  candle  on  the  end  of  the  pole  itself  personated  the  president.  The 
students,  twenty-four  in  number,  stood  in  the  candles  around  the  circle  below. 

The  president  candle  was  the  largest  candle,  according  to  the  recol- 
lection of  General  Dunn,  that  had  ever  been  in  the  state.  It  was  as 
tall  as  a  man.  The  two  professor  candles  were  of  smaller  size,  and 
the  twenty-four  student  candles  were  smaller  still. 

While  the  greater  and  lesser  lights  of  the  New  Purchase  "glim- 
mered forth  that  night  in  all  the  glory  and  effulgence  of  cotton  wick 
and  beef  tallow",  a  meeting  was  held  in  Professor  Harney's  room, 
the  lower  northeast  corner  room  of  the  oldest  College  building,  the 
very  room  in  which  Professor  Ballantine  taught  mathematics 
twenty-six  years  afterwards  when  the  older  College  building  had 
burned  down  (1854) — and  to  this  meeting  came  the  president,  the 
professors,  the  students,  the  resident  members  of  the  board,  the 
professional  men  of  the  town  and  divers  of  the  citizens,  including 
one  of  the  town  fiddlers,  Albert  Literal,  and  one  of  the  College 
flutists,  John  Dunn.  Introductions  and  greetings  followed,  after 
which  speeches  were  made  by  the  president,  the  professors,  and 
others.  Between  the  speeches  the  flutist  and  fiddler  played  their 
most  enlivening  airs,  such  as  "White  River",  "Fire  in  the  Mountain", 
"Jay  Bird",  and  "Bonaparte  Crossing  the  Alps",  the  fiddler  keeping 
the  time  by  the  pat  of  his  foot,  in  which  exercise  all  the  boys  and  a 
good  many  of  the  citizens  gleefully  joined. 

At  a  late  hour  the  company  dispersed,  and  that  night  the  people 
of  Bloomington  went  to  their  beds  happy  in  the  knowledge  that  the 
president  of  Indiana  College  was  at  last  safe  within  their  gates! 

III.    THE  NEW  DEPARTURE  (1829-33)1 

IN  AN  INDIANAPOLIS  NEWSPAPER  printed  on  August  24, 1829,  is 
an  announcement  over  the  signature  of  David  H.  Maxwell,  the 
president  of  the  Board  of  Trustees  of  the  Indiana  College,  that  on 
Thursday,  October  29,  the  inauguration  of  Dr.  Wylie  as  president 

*Read  by  Judge  Banta  as  the  annual  Foundation  Day  address,  January  20, 1891. 


54  Indiana  University 

of  the  College  would  take  place.  The  members  of  the  two  College 
boards — the  Trustees  and  the  Visitors — are  notified  that  they  are 
expected  to  be  punctual  in  their  attendance  on  that  occasion,  while 
to  "the  literary  gentlemen  of  the  state  especially",  and  to  "the 
friends  of  education  generally",  a  most  cordial  invitation  is  extended. 
And,  as  if  fearful  that  the  "literary  gentlemen"  and  the  "friends  of 
education"  may  not  be  persuaded  to  attend  the  festivities  in  be- 
coming numbers  by  the  novelty  attending  the  first  inauguration  of  a 
college  president  in  Indiana,  the  sagacious  president  of  the  board  in 
a  postscript  adds,  "Several  addresses  by  students  of  the  College,  in 
English  and  Latin,  will  be  delivered  on  the  evening  of  the  28th." 

It  is  quite  evident  that  those  having  the  management  in  charge 
hoped  the  occasion  would  be  made  to  mark  an  era  in  the  history  of 
the  College;  and  from  all  the  evidence  now  accessible  it  seems 
reasonably  certain  that  in  this  way  they  were  not  disappointed.  In 
the  Indiana  Journal  of  November  5,  an  unnamed  correspondent 
tells  something  of  the  feast  of  reason  enjoyed  by  "the  trustees  of  the 
College  and  a  numerous  and  highly  respectable  audience  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen  from  various  parts  of  the  state"  on  that  auspicious 
occasion.  It  is  quite  true,  he  makes  no  allusion  to  the  several 
"addresses  by  the  students  in  English  and  Latin",  which  the  presi- 
dent of  the  board  promised ;  but  I  think  we  may  take  it  for  granted 
that  the  addresses  were  given,  and  well  given  at  that,  for  those  were 
days  when  it  was  a  poor  stick  of  a  student  who  could  not  stand  up 
before  an  audience  and  talk  fairly  well. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  chronicler  was  not  neglectful  of  the  cere- 
monies and  addresses  of  inauguration  day.  At  the  appointed  hour, 
the  courthouse  being  packed  with  an  interested  throng,  he  tells  us 
that  Dr.  David  H.  Maxwell,  after  the  delivery  of  "a  chaste  and 
appropriate  address,  presented  Dr.  Wylie  with  the  keys  of  the 
College  and  declared  him  duly  installed  as  its  president".  Then 
followed  the  inaugural  address  itself — "an  inaugural",  says  our 
chronicler,  "which  occupied  about  an  hour  in  the  delivery,  and 
which  for  sound  philosophy,  expanded  views  of  science  and  liter- 
ature, lucid  argument,  nervous  simplicity  and  manly  independ- 
ence, may  be  honorably  compared  with  the  best  productions  of 
the  kind  in  our  country". 

This,  you  say,  is  strong  language,  and  so  it  is;  but  when  ori 
November  26  the  Journal  published  the  address  in  full,  its  editor, 
who  was  not  a  correspondent  and  not  bound  to  praise,  neverthe- 
less wrote  no  less  positively  in  praise  of  its  "simplicity,  elegance, 
soundness,  and  strength"  than  the  unnamed  chronicler  had  himself 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  55 

written.  A  pamphlet  copy  of  that  inaugural,  dog-eared  and  time- 
stained,  is  before  me  as  I  write.  Its  very  appropriate  theme  is, 
"Of  What  Advantage  is  a  College  to  the  Community?"  and  on 
reading  it  after  the  coming  and  going  of  sixty  years  since  it  was 
spoken,  I  am  struck  with  what  seems  to  be  the  conciliatory  air 
pervading  its  every  utterance  and  the  seemingly  far-away  echo  of 
some  of  its  sentiments. 

All  men  were  not  of  one  mind  in  those  days  (at  least  here  in 
Indiana)  as  to  the  true  place  of  the  College.  Indeed,  there  were  a 
few  who  had  such  distrust  of  college-bred  men  as  to  deny  the 
College  any  place  in  a  free  state;  while  there  were  others  whose 
ideas  with  reference  thereto  were  so  very  hazy  that  they  were  as 
liable  to  turn  up  antagonists  as  friends.  It  accorded  with  the  views 
of  the  orator  of  the  day  to  take  high  ground  in  favor  of  scholastic 
training;  and  so  he  did,  yet  he  did  it  in  such  a  persuasive  and  con- 
ciliatory tone  as  not  to  antagonize  those  who  should  be  less  pro- 
nounced in  their  views  than  he.  In  well-chosen  language  he  shows 
wherein  the  community  would  be  the  better  by  the  liberal  education 
of  its  four  so-called  learned  professions —  medicine,  law,  theology, 
and  pedagogy, — not  forgetting  to  enlarge  upon  the  benefit  that 
would  accrue  to  that  "most  respectable  class  in  society,  the  farmer" 
by  the  education  of  such  a  "considerable  number"  of  his  class  as 
the  growing  prosperity  of  the  country  would  ultimately  make 
possible. 

Doubtless,  that  first  of  our  inaugural  orations  would  make  dull 
reading  to  the  most  of  us  today;  but  let  us  remember  that  it  was 
spoken  for  a  people  who  were  in  the  a,  b,  c,  of  knowledge  as  to  the 
true  mission  of  the  College,  and  that  if  we  have  advantages  beyond 
them  in  this  respect  our  advance  was  made  possible  in  a  very  large 
degree  by  this  very  address,  and  by  the  subsequent  addresses  appro- 
priate to  the  times  delivered — some  here  on  commencement 
occasions,  and  others  elsewhere  in  the  state — by  the  same  distin- 
guished speaker. 

It  is  a  fact  worth  stating  that,  up  to  the  time  of  Dr.  Wylie's 
coming,  I  can  find  no  trace  of  an  educational  literature  outside  of 
the  legislative  acts  and  of  the  reports  of  educational  committees  in 
the  newspapers  of  our  state.  This  inaugural  address  was  the  first 
educational  address  ever  published  in  an  Indianapolis  paper,  and 
as  far  as  I  know,  the  first  in  the  state;  and  up  to  1835,  of  the  dozen 
or  more  literary  and  educational  addresses  published  in  the  capital 
papers,  every  one  (save  one)  was  from  the  pen  of  the  president  of 
the  Indiana  College. 


56  Indiana  University 

Let  us  then,  as  generous  scholars,  treasure  the  memory  of  one 
who  did  so  much  to  make  possible  the  vantage  ground  of  today. 

Little  more  is  known  of  the  incidents  of  that  first  inaugural  day 
than  what  is  here  recited.  We  may  well  believe  that  the  president 
of  the  board  as  well  as  the  president  of  the  College  was  somewhat 
anxious  as  to  the  result  of  the  day's  exercises.  We  have  the  testi- 
mony of  Mr.  Lewis  Bollman  that  he  and  such  other  of  the  Washing- 
ton College  students  as  had  followed  the  president  to  his  new  field 
of  action  were  much  concerned  as  to  the  inpression  their  much  loved 
preceptor  would  make.  When  one  citizen  was  seen  taking  notes 
of  the  doctor's  speech,  Mr.  Bollman  could  scarcely  conceal  his 
solicitude.  What  did  it  mean?  Was  the  enemy  already  preparing 
for  war?  The  young  Pennsylvanian  was  bound  to  know;  and  so 
after  the  exercises  were  closed,  he  drew  nigh  to  the  notetaker  and 
asked  him  what  he  thought  of  the  address. 

"It  was  a  very  ordinary  address,  sir — a  very  ordinary  address. 
He  used  but  two  words  that  I  do  not  know  the  meaning  of",  was 
the  unexpected  reply! 

Would  that  we  could  look  back  upon  that  old  Indiana  College  at 
the  time  of  the  new  departure,  and  see  its  professors  and  its  students 
and  their  work.     Its  professors  we  know :  Wylie,  Hall,  and  Harney — 
men  of  renown  even  then,  and  each  to  become  more  renowned  as 
the  years  go  on;  but  who  can  tell  how  many,  and  who,  were  its 
students?    No  catalog  of  the  first  College  year  1829-30  has  come 
down  to  our  time,  and  the  legislative  reports  of  the  time  are  singu- 
larly deficient  in  information  as  to  the  number  of  students  in 
attendance  at  the  beginning  of  this  first  presidential  year.    The 
evidence  on  hand,  however,  warrants  the  conclusion  that  of  our 
own  Indiana  students  there  were  not  to  exceed  twenty-five  or 
thirty  in  attendance,  but  from  the  report  we  learn  that  there  were 
students  "from  Louisiana,  Illinois,  Kentucky,  Pennsylvania,  and 
probably  from  New  Jersey".  The  writer  of  the  report  took  a  hopeful 
view  of  the  future,  predicting  that  the  attendance  during  the  year 
would  not  fall  short  of  fifty,  and  I  think  it  likely  his  prediction  came 
true.     It  is  known  that  a  large  number  of  Washington  College 
students  followed  the  president  to  Bloomington — so  many  that 
Washington  College  was  nearly  broken  up  for  the  time  being, 
according  to  the  testimony  of  Lewis  Bollman. 

The  Indiana  Seminary  was  organized  as  a  preparatory  school, 
and  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  ever  advanced  beyond  it.  Immedi- 
ately after  the  passing  of  the  act  chartering  the  College  the  trustees, 
assuming  the  transformation  to  be  complete,  declared  that  "The 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  57 

first  session  of  the  Indiana  College  will  commence  on  the  first  Mon- 
day in  June  next."  But  there  was  no  change  made  in  the  course  of 
studies.  The  professors  on  the  ground  were  doing  all  they  could. 
The  greater  number  of  their  students  were  still  in  the  preparatory 
studies. 

In  the  fall  of  1828  we  learn,  however,  that  a  few  students  were 
pursuing  the  studies  usually  pursued  in  a  freshman  class,  and  that  in 
one  or  two  studies  belonging  to  the  sophomore  year  work  was  done — 
a  condition  of  things  that  moved  the  trustees  to  pass  an  order  at  their 
fall  meeting  for  that  year  requiring  the  professors  to  provide  a  course 
of  studies  for  the  four  regular  College  classes.  This  requirement 
was  complied  with  in  part  only.  The  studies  for  the  freshman  and 
sophomore  years  were  marked  out  by  the  professors,  and  there  they 
stopped.  They  were  loath  to  anticipate  the  president  in  the  per- 
formance of  a  work  in  which  he  was  so  much  interested.  Professor 
Hall  wrote  to  him  months  before  his  coming  of  this  very  need,  and 
urged  haste  on  his  part  because  of  it.  If,  however,  there  was  no 
formal  junior  course  of  study  laid  down,  it  seems  quite  evident  that 
junior  work  was  done  the  last  year  prior  to  the  president's  coming, 
for  he  found  a  senior  class  awaiting  him.  James  W.  Dunn  and 
Michael  Hummer,  together  with  James  S.  Rollins,2  a  Washington 
College  student,  took  their  degrees  at  the  first  commencement  held 
in  1830. 

The  first  thing  therefore  to  be  done  after  the  inauguration  was 
the  announcement  of  a  complete  curriculum  of  studies,  and  in  the 
following  December  this  was  printed  in  full  in  the  Indiana  Journal. 

As  to  the  matter  of  that  College  course,  it  differed  in  no  essential 
features  from  the  courses  of  study  common  to  other  colleges  of  the 
time.  Great  stress  was  given  to  the  languages,  the  mathematics, 
the  mental  and  moral  sciences,  and  to  belles  lettres.  The  sciences 
forma  very  inconspicuous  part  of  it.  Outside  of  the  applied  mathe- 
matical subjects,  there  was  but  one  purely  scientific  study  in  the 
entire  course — chemistry.  And  inasmuch  as  there  was  no  appa- 
ratus of  any  kind  on  hand,  and  no  experimental  work  of  any  sort 
done,  we  can  easily  see  that  the  scientific  instruction  given  at  that 
time  in  the  Indiana  College  must  have  been  exceedingly  meager. 
Mr.  Bollman  says  there  was  "no  chemistry  in  any  shape".3  The 
late  General  McKee  Dunn,  who  took  his  degree  in  1832,  said  on  the 

2For  sketches  of  these  three,  the  first  graduates  of  Indiana  College,  see  Theophilus  Wylie's 
Indiana  University,  Its  History  from  1820  to  1890  (1890)  pp.  166-168.  Rollins  removed  to  Mis- 
souri and  was  chiefly  instrumental  in  founding  the  University  of  Missouri. 

'Lewis  Bollman,  The  State  University  of  Indiana,  p.  25.— D.  D.  Banta. 


58  Indiana  University 

contrary,  in  effect,  that  chemistry  was  taught  after  a  fashion,  but 
that  when  he  graduated  he  had  so  little  conception  of  what  was  re- 
quired to  constitute  a  chemist's  laboratory  that  he  did  not  even  know 
what  a  crucible  was. 

Once  for  all  let  it  be  remembered  that  the  curriculum  of  studies 
in  this  institution,  as  long  as  President  Wylie  lived,  was  especially 
full  in  the  line  of  the  mental  and  moral  sciences  and  of  all  belles 
lettres  studies.  Before  leaving  Washington  College  he  had  intro- 
duced in  that  institution,  in  lieu  of  the  old  metaphysics  with  its 
"entities  and  quiddities",  the  Scottish  philosophy  of  Thomas 
Reid  and  Dugald  Stewart;  and  while  textbooks  for  the  senior  year 
are  not  named  in  the  early  Indiana  College  catalogs,  we  may  never- 
theless rest  content  that,  if  her  bachelors  did  not  go  forth  well 
indoctrinated  with  orthodox  Scottish  theory,  it  was  no  fault  of  its 
expounder,  Dr.  Wylie. 

The  most  curious  phase  of  this  first  full  collegiate  course  adopted 
in  the  state  of  Indiana  was  the  order  in  which  the  various  studies  it 
comprehended  were  to  be  pursued.  The  plan  was  one  which  has 
been  aptly  denominated  "the  one-study  plan".  The  student  is 
required  to  "give  his  undivded  attention  to  one  principal  study  till 
it  is  completed",  say  the  old  catalogs.  Thus  thru  all  the  freshman  and 
half  the  sophomore  years,  he  gave  his  undivided  attention  to  Greek 
and  Latin.  The  latter  half  of  his  sophomore  year  and  all  of  his 
junior,  he  studied  the  mathematics  pure  and  applied,  together  with 
the  little  of  the  so-called  natural  sciences  that  should  be  dribbled  out. 
His  senior  year  he  gave  to  the  president,  in  the  speculative  philoso- 
phies, in  the  evidences  of  chemistry,  in  constitutional  law,  political 
economy,  and  literary  criticism. 

Whether  the  "one-study"  idea,  in  its  application  to  the  Indiana 
College  course,  was  a  new  departure  I  cannot  say ;  but  the  idea  was 
not  new  to  the  common  schools  of  the  day.  The  plan  then  generally 
in  vogue,  and  destined  to  be  in  vogue  for  many  a  year  to  come, 
recognized  it  to  the  fullest  extent.  After  the  boy  of  the  district 
school  had  mastered  the  alphabet,  he  was  set  to  spelling  in  his 
Webster's  spelling-book,  and  not  suffered  to  use  any  other  book 
until  he  could  not  only  spell  every  word  in  the  book  at  sight,  but 
pronounce  every  word  at  sight.  He  might  have  learned  to  read 
fairly  well  in  the  meantime,  better  it  may  be  than  his  father  or 
mother;  but  his  teacher,  blind  to  his  advance  in  this  respect,  kept 
him  pounding  away  at  his  spelling-book  until  he  had  gone  thru  it 
in  the  required  ways  and  required  times.  That  done,  learning  to 
read  was  next  in  order.  No  matter  how  well  or  how  ill  the  lad  could 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  59 

read,  when  this  work  was  entered  upon,  the  first  reading  lesson  in  the 
old  spelling-book  was  assigned  him.  Probably  in  anticipation  of 
that  great  and  eventful  day,  the  boy  had  read  that  lesson  over 
hundred  of  times  and  knew  it  as  well  off  the  book  as  on : 

She  fed  the  old  hen. 

The  old  hen  was  fed  by  her. 

See  how  the  hen  can  run. 

No  matter,  Begin  at  the  beginning  was  the  rule.  The  lad  must  stand 
up  when  his  turn  came  and  read  it  off  to  a  master  who,  ten  to  one, 
was  more  intent  upon  catching  some  bad  boy  in  a  bit  of  mischief 
than  he  was  in  the  lesson  on  hand.  Toward  the  close  of  the  pupil's 
reading  era,  writing  was  introduced,  but  that  was  a  sort  of  by-play, 
and  need  not  further  be  noticed.  Last  of  all,  with  arithmetic  and 
slate,  the  schoolboy  sat  down  to  master  the  art  of  computation. 
Arithmetic  was  the  crowning  work  of  his  educational  life.  He  might 
give  one  school  quarter  to  its  acquisition,  or  two  or  three;  but  many 
or  few,  after  he  once  attained  to  the  dignity  of  slate  and  arithmetic, 
he  became  a  sort  of  country  senior,  the  balance  of  whose  school  days 
were  to  be  given  to  the  greatest  of  all  his  school  work — ciphering. 

And  so,  I  say,  that  the  one-study  plan  was  not  a  novel  plan  to 
the  educational  world;  nor  was  it  claimed  to  be,  by  President  Wylie, 
at  whose  instance  it  was  introduced  in  the  Indiana  College.  "This 
method",  says  he  in  the  first  catalog,  "has  been  adopted  by  the 
president  under  the  full  conviction,  founded  on  twenty  years* 
observation  and  experience,  that  it  possesses  many  and  decided 
advantages  over  that  which  is  pursued  in  most  colleges,  of  blending 
together  a  variety  of  studies." 

Two  recitations  a  day  were  required  of  all  classes  below  the 
the  seniors,  one  in  the  forenoon  and  one  in  the  afternoon — Greek  or 
Latin  before  dinner,  and  Latin  or  Greek  after  dinner,  for  the  fresh- 
man and  half  the  sophomore  years ;  and  so  on.  The  seniors  attended 
only  one  lecture  or  recitation  a  day,  but  it  was  a  long  one — fre- 
quently three  hours  long ;  and  especially  was  this  apt  to  be  the  case 
when  the  Doctor's  favorite  subject,  metaphysica,  was  the  theme. 

The  one-study  plan  seems  not  to  have  worked  well  in  the  Indiana 
College.  It  was  as  is  so  well  said  by  Dr.  T.  A.  Wylie  in  his  history  of 
the  University,  "no  doubt  well  adapted  to  minds  like  the  president's, 
who  had  in  phrenological  language  a  great  organ  of  concentrative- 
ness,  but  not  to  the  average  minds  of  students,  nor  to  the  condition 
of  things  as  they  then  existed".4  The  plan  was  popular  with  the 

•Theophilus  A.  Wylie,  Indiana  University,  Its  History  from  1820  to  1890,  p.  48. 


60  Indiana  University 

professors,  we  may  suppose,  for  each  could  hare  the  satisfaction  of 
putting  on  an  undivided  load;  but  to  the  student  it  was  not  so 
popular,  and  in  a  few  years  it  was  abandoned  altogether. 

Another  custom  introduced  at  this  time  is  worthy  the  attention 
of  the  modern  student. 

Dr.  Wylie  was  a  stickler  for  early  rising.  He  had  been  brought 
up  in  an  age  and  a  country  where  the  maxims  of  "Poor  Richard" 
were  leaving  their  deepest  impress,  and  it  may  be  that  he  had  thus 
caught  something  of  the  spirit  of  the  "Early-to-bed-and-early-to- 
rise"  philosophy.  At  any  rate,  he  sought  to  impress  upon  the 
students  under  his  charge  the  habit  of  early  rising ;  and  to  that  end 
it  was  made  a  law  of  the  College,  that  the  students  should  "assemble 
every  morning  shortly  after  daybreak  for  prayers".  This  was  the 
requirement  as  written  in  the  first  catalog,  and  it  was  the  require- 
ment that  was  enforced.  And  daybreak  meant  day  break  in  those 
days,  not  daylight. 

The  hour,  we  may  safely  assume,  was  an  inconveniently  early 
one,  and  the  evidence  is  abundant  that  the  students  were  outspoken 
in  their  hostility  to  it.  Except  for  this  hard  rule  it  would  scarcely 
be  remembered  that  the  winter  of  1829-30  was  an  unusually 
mild  and  open  winter.  A  great  deal  of  rain  fell  during  that  winter, 
and  the  sidewalks  of  that  part  of  Walnut  street  leading  from  the 
southeast  corner  of  the  public  square  to  the  northeast  corner  of  the 
College  campus  were  not  even  paved  with  the  rough  unelastic 
limestone  slabs  that  we,  who  came  a  quarter  of  a  century  later, 
found.  The  condition  of  the  unpaved  sidewalks  of  south  Walnut 
street  of  a  rainy,  slushy,  open  winter  I  leave  you  to  imagine.  And 
so  too,  I  leave  you  to  imagine  the  high-stepping,  dignified  Wylie, 
pulling  himself  with  all  haste  at  break  of  day  thru  a  yellow  mud  the 
tenacity  of  which  even  yet  is,  on  occasion,  a  subject  of  special  won- 
der. To  the  unregenerate  youth  of  those  far-off  days,  who  had 
been  compelled  to  leave  a  warm  bed  at  what  he  deemed  an  un- 
reasonably early  hour,  the  sight  of  the  Doctor's  laboring  in  the 
miring  mud  at  break  of  day  was  a  source  of  infinite  delight. 

The  students  of  those  times  long  loved  to  tell  of  their  daybreak 
escapades.  Lying  in  bed  till  the  last  moment,  half-dressed  with 
unbuttoned  coats  and  vests,  they  scurried  to  the  College,  often  to 
find  themselves  too  late  and  the  door  closed  in  their  faces.  Then, 
however,  each  belated  man  usually  held  his  ground  thru  roll  call, 
and  hearing  his  name  he  would  shout  back  a  lusty  "Here!"  which, 
if  having  no  other  effect,  never  failed  to  amuse  his  more  fortunate 
comrades  within. 


Centenmal  Memorial  Volume  61 

This  stern  custom  fell  into  disuse  some  time  in  1832.  It  signally 
failed  in  its  purpose,  and  the  wise  Doctor  must  have  soon  become 
aware  of  it.  Instead  of  promoting  early  rising,  it  led  to  late  hours 
in  bed.  I  have  heard  the  late  P.  L.  D.  Mitchell,  say,  that  at  his 
"fort"  all  the  boys  went  back  to  bed  after  returning  from  morning 
prayers,  nor  did  they  rise  till  just  in  time  to  bolt  their  breakfasts  for 
the  first  recitation.  Nor  was  this  bad  practice  confined  to  the 
students  in  Mitchell's  "fort".  Lewis  Bollman,  Dr.  McPheeters, 
and  others  testify  to  its  prevalence  more  or  less  among  all  the 
students  of  the  College. 

It  was  a  rule  in  those  days  that  every  student  absenting  himself 
from  morning  prayers  was  required  to  show  a  sufficient  reason  there- 
for to  the  president,  and  a  tradition  has  come  down  to  our  times  to 
the  effect  that  the  high  degree  of  ingenuity,  daring,  and  skill  at- 
tained by  some  students  in  the  framing  of  excuses  had  something  to 
do  with  the  abrogation  of  the  rule.  To  such  a  high  pitch  was  the 
art  carried,  that  it  came  to  be  a  kind  of  by-phrase,  "It  is  a  poor  stick 
of  a  student  who  can't  show  a  good  excuse  for  having  overslept  him- 
self!" 

The  most  of  you,  I  suppose,  have  seen  the  picture  in  Dr.  T.  A. 
Wylie's  book  of  the  first  College  buildings.  The  main  one,  a  rec- 
tangular structure  of  three  stories  and  many  windows,  with  a  deck 
roof  and  a  pepper-box  cupola,  and  resembling  more  (says  our  Dr. 
Wylie),  "a  New  England  cotton-mill  than  a  college",  was  once  the 
Indiana  College — in  brick  and  mortar.  I  will  not  consume  time  on 
this  occasion  by  any  description  of  that  building.  It  is  enough  to 
say  that  at  the  very  meeting  of  the  Board  of  Trustees  when  Dr. 
Wylie  was  chosen  to  the  presidency,  steps  were  taken  looking  to  its 
speedy  construction;  and  when,  after  the  lapse  of  nearly  twenty 
months,  he  entered  upon  his  work,  he  found  the  walls  up,  the  deck 
roof  on,  and  a  contract  made  for  the  speedy  glazing  of  the  windows. 
It  was  to  be  three  years  yet  before  that  great  building  should  be 
ready  for  occupancy.  I  say  "great",  because  its  dimensions  were 
such  as  to  call  for  an  apology  from  the  trustees  to  the  General 
Assembly  for  building  it.  The  history  of  its  erection  is  a  most  sug- 
gestive one.  The  first  act  of  the  board  in  reference  to  it  was  to 
appoint  a  committee  of  three  of  its  own  members  to  draft  a  plan. 
Architects  in  those  days,  it  would  seem,  were  not  to  be  found  in 
the  West.  About  this  time  a  legislative  committee  sent  all  the 
way  to  New  York  for  a  plan  for  a  new  statehouse,  for  which  they 
paid  $125.  But  the  Indiana  College  could  not  afford  to  hire  an 
architect,  and  so  a  committee  was  charged  with  the  responsible  duty 


62  Indiana  University 

of  reporting  a  plan.  But  the  committee  never  reported  a  plan. 
Two  or  three  days  after  the  appointment  of  the  committee,  the 
board  instructed  it  to  proceed  at  once  and  provide  material  that 
could  be  used  in  the  construction  of  a  College  building  on  any  plan 
that  might  hereafter  be  adopted.  The  truth  is,  there  never  was  a 
plan  agreed  upon.  Like  Topsy,  that  building  "just  growed".  In 
Professor  Hall's  The  New  Purchase  it  is  said  that  the  builders  began 
excavating  for  a  square  building  on  the  plan  of  the  courthouse,  then 
recently  completed  and  the  architectural  ideal  of  the  time,  but  that 
Dr.  Maxwell  and  others  interfered  and  secured  a  rectangular  foun- 
dation. The  builders  had  300,000  bricks  at  their  command,  and  it 
looks  now  as  if  they  had  built  skyward  till  the  bricks  ran  out.  In 
December,  1829,  we  learn  that  the  board  had  in  view — in  addition 
to  recitation  rooms,  library,  and  chemical  laboratory — a  great 
"college  chapel,  with  ample  galleries,  so  as  to  accommodate  a  very 
large  assembly".  At  one  end  of  the  deck  roof  was  to  be  a  cupola, 
and  at  the  other  an  astronomical  observatory.  By  the  next  Decem- 
ber to  these  ideas  a  new  one  was  added.  Nothing  more  is  said  of 
the  cupola,  for  I  suspect  that  had  been  put  in  place.  The  "indispen- 
sable necessity  in  some  instances  for  different  apartments  for  the 
inculcation  of  different  sciences"  is  mentioned,  and  so  is  "the  pressing 
necessity  for  a  large  hall,  or  chapel  so  called,  for  the  use  of  students 
on  commencement  days' '  and  for  the  accommodation  of  the  public 
on  these  occasions,  but  the  gallery  had  been  dropped.  The  new 
idea  comprehends  the  "dormitory  system".  The  students  must 
have  "commons  or  lodgings",  says  the  report  of  December,  1830, 
and  thus  is  the  question  argued: 

Boarding,  although  it  is  obtained  very  low  at  Bloomington,  is  the  most  expensive 
item  in  the  education  of  a  young  man.  In  some  of  the  most  respectable  colleges 
of  the  United  States,  it  has  become  the  practice  for  ten  or  twelve  young  men  to 
unite,  and  from  time  to  time  to  purchase  articles  of  diet  in  the  market  and  hire 
some  person  to  cook  and  keep  a  table  for  them;  and  in  this  way  their  boarding 
does  not  cost  them  more  than  50  or  62 1^  cents  per  week.  To  do  this,  however, 
they  must  have  lodgings  in  the  College  buildings,  and  to  provide  such  at  as  early 
a  day  as  practicable  has  been  one  main  object  of  the  board. 

Nevertheless  this  is  the  first,  and  for  that  matter  the  last,  that 
was  ever  heard  of  the  dormitory  plan  in  connection  with  the  Indiana 
College. 

We  cannot  close  this  notice  of  the  material  surroundings  of  these 
first  years  of  the  Indiana  College  without  a  brief  reference  to  the 
College  library  and  apparatus.  We  saw  in  the  address  given  last 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  63 

year5  that  in  the  summer  of  1829  Dr.  Wylie,  with  the  consent  of 
the  board,  went  to  the  seaboard  states  to  beg  money  and  books  for  a 
College  library.  Well,  his  mission  was  attended  with  such  success 
that  in  the  report  of  the  trustees  made  in  December,  1830,  we  are 
told  that  "the  College  has  a  library  of  235  volumes,  so  assorted  as  to 
embrace  history,  geography,  belles  lettres,  and  treatises  on  chem- 
istry and  mental  and  moral  philosophy".  "These  books  are  all 
new",  continues  the  report,  "and  of  the  most  approved  authors  and 
estimated  at  being  very  low  for  six  hundred  dollars."  This  first 
College  library  was  destroyed  by  fire  in  1854,  but  a  catalog  of  the 
235  volumes,  in  Dr.  Wylie's  hand,  is  still  in  existence,  a  perusal  of 
which  adds  materially  to  the  spirit  of  resignation  one  ought  to  feel 
for  the  burning  of  that  library. 

The  fiist  apparatus  to  come  into  the  College  consisted  of  two 
globes,  a  terrestrial  and  a  celestial,  costing  $31.  We  get  this  fact 
from  this  report  of  December,  1830 ;  and  in  the  same  report  we  find 
the  trustees  importuning  the  General  Assembly  for  an  appropriation 
for  a  philosophical  apparatus.  After  assuring  the  Assembly  that 
the  funds  at  the  disposal  of  the  board  did  not  warrant  the  purchase 
by  them,  the  report  enlarges  upon  the  great  importance  in  an  edu- 
cational point  of  view  of  a  philosophical  apparatus.  "What", 
exclaims  the  writer  of  this  report — 

What  is  there  more  calculated  to  expand  the  mind  and  enlighten  it  than  the  study 
and  developments  of  experimental  philosophy?  Nature  cannot  be  comprehended 
without  its  aid;  and  will  the  General  Assembly,  the  guardians  of  this  institution, 
who  are  bound  as  they  love  and  respect  the  state,  to  protect  it,  foster,  and  exalt 
it — will  they  stand  still  whilst  strangers  at  the  distance  of  a  thousand  miles  are 
generously  giving  it  an  impulse  in  its  march  onward? 

Alas!  alas!  the  General  Assembly  stood  still.  Fervent  as  was  the 
appeal  for  material  aid,  not  a  dollar  was  voted — whereupon  the 
board  went  off  and  bought  an  apparatus  for  themselves  at  a  cost 
of  $367.70.  And  upon  a  report  made  by  Professor  Elliott  when  he 
took  charge  of  the  department  a  few  years  afterwards,  which  has 
escaped  the  ravages  of  fire  and  time,  we  learn  that  this  philosophical 
apparatus  consisted  in  part,  if  not  in  whole,  of  an  electric  machine 
with  battery  and  discharger,  a  galvanic  battery,  a  small  galvanic 
pile,  an  airpump  with  three  receivers,  and  the  mechanical  powers 
complete. 

It  is  pleasant  to  note  the  signs  of  prosperity  that  followed  the 
new  president's  coming.  The  30  students  entering  the  College  in 

5See  the  second  address,  above. 


64  Indiana  University 

the  fall  of  1829  grew  to  59  at  the  beginning  of  the  following  year, 
34  of  whom  were  Indianians,  10  Kentuckians,  8  Pennsylvanians,  1 
Tennesseean,  one  Mississippian,  1  Louisianian,  1  Illinoisan,  and  1 
Missourian.  Three  students  took  their  degrees  at  the  first  com- 
mencement in  1830.  By  the  end  of  the  next  year  (1830-31),  the 
whole  number  mounted  up  to  60,  4  of  whom  took  their  degrees  at 
the  second  commencement.  The  next  year  (1831-32)  the  whole 
number  enrolled  was  53,  5  of  whom  took  their  bachelor's  degree; 
and  in  1832-33,  65  students  were  enrolled,  3  of  whom  were  sent 
forth  as  graduates. 

Did   this   not   mean   prosperity?     Yes,  for  the  times,  it  did. 

And  yet  it  was  the  prosperity  that  came  amidst  the  storms  of 
war. 

Those  who  have  kept  the  run  of  these  Foundation  Day  papers 
have  learned  something,  I  trust,  of  the  hostility  manifested  toward 
the  Seminary  from  the  first  day  of  its  opening,  when  the  town  lads 
with  spelling-books  and  readers  demanded  admission  to  its  privi- 
leges, up  to  the  day  when  it  was  elevated  to  the  dignity  of  a  college 
by  legislative  enactment. 

Whether  the  General  Assembly  was  influenced  in  any  degree  to 
grant  a  college  charter,  by  the  hope  that  a  college  would  meet  with 
more  favor  than  the  Seminary  had,  is  uncertain;  but  it  is  certain, 
that  it  was  believed  that  the  ground  for  opposition  to  a  state  insti- 
tution, whether  real  or  imaginary,  would  be  removed  by  the  change. 
A  new  and  more  numerous  Board  of  Trustees  was  provided;  also 
a  Board  of  Visitors  on  whom  was  conferred  extensive  powers  of 
review.  And,  as  if  this  were  not  enough,  the  charter  itself  provided 
against  all  the  evils  that  had  been  complained  of  in  Seminary  times. 

But  the  time  had  not  yet  come  for  the  singing  of  the  good-will- 
and-peace  anthem  over  the  Indiana  College.  On  the  contrary,  the 
College  had  inherited  all  the  Seminary's  enemies  and  enmities,  and 
it  was  by  no  means  an  unnatural  inheritance.  Those  who  expected 
these  enemies  to  bury  their  opposition  in  the  grave  with  the  dead 
Seminary  were  doomed  to  disappointment.  The  College  had  been 
flung  into  the  midst  of  a  warlike  people,  and  it  was  impossible  for 
it  and  those  connected  with  it  to  escape  the  fire  and  smoke  of  battle. 
Before  Dr.  Wylie's  anival  in  Bloomington,  he  was  made  the  target 
for  severe  animadversion  by  at  least  one  paper  in  the  state.  Be- 
fore his  arrival,  preparations  were  formally  made  for  a  combined 
attack  upon  the  College  and  its  management  in  the  succeeding  legis- 
lature by  all  its  enemies;  and  hardly  had  that  foe  been  met  and  over- 
thrown, ere  was  heard  the  first  murmurings  of  that  internecine  war — 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  65 

the  bitterest  college  civil  war,  I  doubt  not,  ever  waged  in  the  West, 
and  which  ultimately  resulted  in  the  dismemberment  of  the  faculty 
and  came  nigh  disrupting  the  College  itself. 

No,  the  day  of  peace  had  not  yet  come  to  the  Indiana  College. 
The  battle  had  to  be  fought  out  and  was  fought  out;  and  while  the 
story  is  not  a  pleasant  one  to  tell,  yet  it  falls  within  the  purview  of 
this  history,  and  to  escape  its  telling  is  to  cease  the  writing. 

But  how  can  it  be  told?  By  the  mere  narrative  of  the  events 
in  the  order  of  their  sequence?  This  mode  would  result  in  injustice 
to  the  actors,  and  besides  that  gives  us  a  pointless  tale.  All  history 
may  not,  like  "all  Sciipture,  be  given  by  inspiration  of  God",  but 
it  is  nevertheless,  when  rightfully  and  truthfully  written,  "profitable 
for  doctrine,  for  reproof,  for  correction,  for  instruction  in 
righteousness".  At  least  so  I  love  to  think.  Two  distinct  contro- 
versies were  waged  during  these  gloomy  years,  and  each  was  a 
product  of  the  times — a  sort  of  necessary  result  of  certain  moral 
forces  then  existing  in  our  state.  The  external  attack  came  first 
but  in  no  sense  was  it  the  cause  of  the  internal  conflict.  Each  was 
independent  of  the  other,  and  yet  both  were  the  resultants  of  similar 
forces;  and  so  different  is  the  state  of  society  in  Indiana  today  from 
what  it  was  sixty  years  ago,  that  either  story  would  be  inexplicable 
if  read  only  by  the  light  of  today. 

It  is  due  the  occasion  to  say  that  when  this  paper  was  begun,  it 
was  with  the  purpose  of  carrying  the  story  of  our  College  down  to 
the  close  of  that  period  of  domestic  strife  to  which  allusion  has  just 
been  made,  but  such  an  accumulation  of  historical  data  relative  to 
these  times  turns  up,  as  we  progress,  that  it  becomes  impossible  to 
go  further  today  in  the  story  than  down  to  a  certain  "spring  exhibi- 
tion" in  1832,  on  which  occasion  the  dragon's  teeth  were  sown  that 
afterwards  sprung  into  armed  men  almost  to  the  undoing  of  the 
Indiana  College. 

Without  going  into  an  extended  discussion  of  what,  at  this  late 
and  let  us  hope  better  day,  may  be  regarded  in  the  light  of  character- 
istics of  the  people  of  Indiana  in  the  time  of  the  early  history  of  our 
state,  it  will  aid  you,  I  trust,  to  a  somewhat  better  understanding 
of  the  men  and  events  of  the  times  to  keep  in  mind  one  or  two  of  the 
most  prominent  characteristics  of  the  Indianians  of  the  period. 

I  believe  if  I  were  asked  to  give  a  name  to  what  I  conceived  to  be 
the  most  prominent  characteristic  of  the  Indiana  man  of  that  time  I 
should  say,  pugnacity.  It  is  true  this  is  a  characteristic  he  had  in 
common  with  all  other  western  men,  but  it  was  his  characteristic 
nevertheless,  and  he  possessed  it  in  a  high  degree. 


66  Indiana  University 

Next  to  his  pugnacious  spirit  came  a  characteristic  which  for 
want  of  a  better  name  may  be  called  a  spirit  of  intensity.  Men  felt 
more  than  they  thought.  More  than  is  the  case  today  they  were 
given  to  act  upon  impulse  rather  than  from  reason.  They  were 
more  emotional  and  were  easier  to  be  moved  by  the  orator  than  is 
the  case  now.  They  felt  more  intensely  than  we  do.  They  were 
more  apt  to  act  under  the  inspiration  of  the  "hurrah"  than  are  we. 
There  was  more  of  the  "nobly  wild  and  extravagant"  in  the  char- 
acter of  that  day  than  this.  Those  were  the  days  when  the  river 
hero  was  "half-horse  and  half-alligator";  when  the  country  hero 
was  a  "six-horse-team-with-a-bull-dog-under-the-wagon".  It  was 
a  day  when  a  militia  brigadier-general  could  empty  a  barrel  of 
whiskey  and  a  half-barrel  of  sugar  into  a  public  well  and  receive  the 
plaudits  of  the  battalion. 

It  was  this  intense,  impetuous,  extravagant  spirit  which  drove 
the  state  not  long  after  this  time  into  that  disastrous  internal  im- 
provements system,  the  evil  effects  of  which  have  scarcely  yet  dis- 
appeared. 

After  these  characteristics,  I  would  mention  patriotism,  sectar- 
ianism and  orthodoxy,  partisanship  and  sensitiveness.  The 
Indianian  was  intensely  and  pugnaciously  patriotic,  sectarian  and 
orthodox,  partisan  and  sensitive. 

Most  of  these  characteristics  belonged  to  him  in  common  with 
all  other  western  people,  but  not  all.  He  was  sensitive  to  criticism 
from  outsiders  as  was  no  other  people  in  all  the  Mississippi  valley. 
Why?  Well,  he  got  more  of  it.  There  was  a  time  in  the  history  of 
our  state  when  it  was  the  fashion  to  "poke  fun"  at  Indiana,  and 
everybody  did  it.  Why  so?  Taken  all  in  all,  it  may  be  assumed 
that  the  early  settlers  of  Indiana  were  the  poorest  class  of  men,  in  so 
far  as  money  was  concerned,  that  ever  settled  any  state  in  the  valley 
— a  circumstance,  however,  not  to  be  mentioned  to  their  discredit. 
A  large  per  cent  of  them  had  been  impoverished  by  the  Revolution- 
ary War,  or  were  the  descendants  of  those  who  had  been  so  impover- 
ished. A  still  larger  per  cent  emigrated  to  the  state  to  escape  the 
curse  of  slavery. 

Of  all  the  western  states,  Indiana  presented  the  greatest  natural 
obstacles  to  the  home-maker.  Its  forests  were  not  excelled  in  any 
state,  while  the  generally  swampy  condition  of  the  country  made  it 
a  peculiarly  difficult  one  in  which  to  make  farms  and  found  prosper- 
ous settlements.  Add  to  these  drawbacks  the  scourge  of  the 
autumnal  sickness  which  prevailed  from  the  Wabash  to  the  Big 
Miami,  and  we  see  abundant  reason  why  the  state  was  kept  back  in 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  67 

the  march  of  progress.  It  was  no  reflection  upon  the  people  of 
Indiana  that  their  development  in  material  wealth  was  slow;  that 
they  had  bad  roads,  poor  schools,  and  the  "fever  and  ague". 

But  because  of  these  and  kindred  misfortunes  Indiana  (dare  I 
say  it,  even  yet,  and  even  here?) — Indiana  became  a  by-word. 
Indiana,  her  people,  her  roads,  her  sickness,  her  poverty,  her  fever 
and  ague,  was  made  the  target  for  all  the  weak  newspaper  criticisms 
and  stupid  jokes  of  the  entire  country. 

Almost  from  the  foundation  of  the  first  American  settlement 
within  the  Indiana  border,  the  defamation  began.  Lawrenceburg 
and  vicinity  were  settled  mainly  with  men  from  Maine,  Massa- 
chusetts, and  Connecticut,  but  not  long  is  it  before  we  find  these 
representatives  of  the  cultured  East  engaged  in  a  war  of  epithets 
with  their  Kentucky  neighbors  on  the  south  side  of  the  Ohio.  The 
Kentuckians  screamed  "Hoosier",  the  Indianians  shouted  back 
"Algerine".  The  latter  word  has  been  forgotten — absorbed  in 
"Corn  Cracker",  possibly — but  "Hoosier"  has  stuck.  Who  knows 
its  genesis?  No  one,  nor  its  meaning.  It  came  from  without — 
that  seems  certain ;  and  was  used  at  first  as  an  epithet  of  reproach. 
It  did  not  need  to  have  a  meaning  in  the  beginning — nay,  it  served 
the  better  purpose  without  a  meaning;  for  it  was  enough  to  cry 
"Hoosier!"  "Hoosier!"  to  make  the  Indianians,  from  the  Ohio  to 
the  outermost  verge  of  the  settlements  grit  their  teeth  and  curse 
their  tormentors.  Of  course  it  hurt.  No  man — no  men — will 
endure  to  be  made  game  of.  Jeer  at,  jibe  at,  laugh  at,  poke  fun  at 
the  best  man  in  your  town,  and  you  will  soon  have  him  fighting  or 
crying. 

There  came  a  time  when  we  no  longer  cared,  but  it  was  long  after 
1830.  The  truth  is,  our  state  and  our  people  and  their  ways  con- 
tinued to  be  the  fruitful  themes  of  jests  and  criticisms  till  the  war. 
Till  that  period  the  Ohio  people  looked  disdainfully  across  the  border 
at  us,  and  even  the  wretched  Suckers,  our  brethren  on  the  west, 
turned  up  their  noses  at  us;  while  as  for  the  Kentuckians — well, 
how  unctuously  they  could  give  us  their  African  pronunciation  of 
"Hoosiah!" 

As  late  as  1854  the  natural  and  necessary  effect  of  all  this  odious 
criticism  was  to  develop  that  sensitive  characteristic  of  which  I 
have  before  spoken.  It  is  a  characteristic  the  influence  of  which  I 
am  told  is  still  felt  in  some  of  the  staid  and  out-of-the-way  places  of 
southern  and  central  Indiana,  but  I  think  this  is  scarcely  true.  But 
at  and  before  and  for  some  time  after  1830,  its  influence  was  f  t  in 
every  neighborhood.  I  can  best  describe  the  Indiana  peop  of 


68  Indiana  University 

that  period  as  standing  huddled,  "snouts  out",  on  the  defensive. 
All  newcomers  were  suspected,  all  friendly  critics  were  snubbed. 
Foreign  teachers  were  received  with  misgiving,  and  there  was  a 
strong  undercurrent  of  belief  that  a  college  under  the  control  of 
such  teachers  would  in  some  way  become  inimical  to  the  best  inter- 
ests of  the  state. 

From  the  first  day  of  the  opening  of  the  Seminary,  Professor 
Hall  was  confronted  with  a  serious  opposition  growing  out  of  this 
sentiment;  and  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  he  tried  in  every 
rational  way  to  show  to  the  people  there  was  no  cause  for  their 
antagonism,  he  never  quite  succeeded.  Harney  encountered  the 
same  unreasoning  and  disagreeable  opposition,  and  even  before  Dr. 
Wylie  entered  the  state  like  opposition  was  manifested  toward  him. 

In  the  Annotator,  a  paper  published  at  Salem — a  stray  copy  of 
which,  issued  on  September  20,  1829,  twenty  days  before  the  Doc- 
tor's arrival,  I  have  managed  to  capture — appears  the  first  attack 
on  him  ever  made  in  the  state,  so  far  as  is  now  known ;  and  this  I 
will  read  in  illustration  of  the  proposition  under  consideration : 

[The  article  referred  to  is  not  included  in  Judge  Banta's  manu- 
script. Evidently  he  read  from  the  copy  of  the  newspaper  in  his 
possession,  which  has  since  disappeared.  It  has  been  impossible  to 
find  anywhere  a  copy  of  the  Annotator  of  this  date,  to  supply  the 
missing  article.  However,  the  following  reply  to  it  published  in  the 
Indiana  Journal  of  November  5,  1829,  gives  an  idea  of  the  character 
of  the  attack: 

MESSRS.  EDITORS  :  Some  few  weeks  ago  the  Printers  of  the  A  nnotator,  a  paper 
published  in  the  town  of  Salem,  thought  proper  to  denounce  the  Rev.  Dr.  Wylie, 
as  the  slanderer  of  the  Western  Country,  and  to  warn  the  parents  of  this  State 
from  placing  their  sons  under  the  care  and  tuition  of  this  libeller  of  Indiana.  As 
a  reason  for  this  singular  denunciation,  and  tender  solicitude  for  the  welfare  of 
the  youth  of  Indiana,  the  aforesaid  Printers  gave  an  extract  from  a  letter  addressed 
by  Dr.  Wylie  to  the  Secretary  of  the  American  Educational  Society.  The  extract 
which  they  gave  seemed  merely  to  show,  what  every  man  of  sense  in  the  west  knew 
before,  viz:  that  no  reader  of  sermons  could  here  be  popular  or  useful  as  a  public 
teacher  of  Religion.  Yet  inasmuch  as  the  said  extract  was  partial,  erroneously 
printed  and  accompanied  by  no  little  malediction,  by  which  false  impressions 
may  have  been  made,  I  will  thank  you,  Messrs.  Editors,  to  publish  the  whole 
letter,  which  I  send  you  in  the  Journal  of  the  American  Educational  Society; 
your  readers  will  then  see  that  so  far  from  being  reproachful  to  the  west,  the 
country  of  Dr.  Wylie's  nativity,  it  is  highly  complimentary.  "Let",  says  the  Doc- 
tor, "the  weak  and  the  ignorant,  if  they  must  undertake  the  office  of  giving  instruc- 
tion, undertake  it  in  older  countries  where  they  can  more  readily  derive  aid 
from  contiguous  auxiliaries.  In  such  a  region  as  the  WEST  truth  needs  strength 
to  support  it."  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  Printers  of  the  Annotator  will  on  reading 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  69 

the  letter  again,  feel  the  necessity  of  publishing  it  entire  and  thus  doing  justice, 
not  to  the  enemy  of  Indiana  but  to  a  friend  and  one  destined,  I  trust,  to  be  one 
of  its  brightest  ornaments. 

A  SUBSCRIBER. 

Let  us  briefly  call  your  attention  to  one  other  characteristic.  I 
have  said  the  Indianians  of  the  early  period  were  marked  for  their 
partisanship.  They  were  intensely  and  pugnaciously  partisan. 

Political  parties  as  we  understand  the  term  did  not,  however, 
exist  in  Indiana  as  early  as  1830.  It  was  not  until  sometime  in  1834 
that  we  first  read  of  Whigs  and  Democrats  in  the  state  papers. 
Prior  to  that  time  the  politics  of  the  state  was  factional.  Sometimes 
the  people  divided  on  the  most  trivial  of  issue*  The  issue  in  the 
first  general  election  held  in  the  New  Purchase  was  "White  water 
men  or  Kentucky  men".  Later  the  politics  became  still  more 
factional,  the  people  yielding  to  a  sort  of  hero  worship  and  following 
the  leadership  of  this  or  that  great  man  of  the  hour.  In  the  domain 
of  national  politics  they  were  Adams  men  or  Clay  men  or  Jackson 
men.  In  state  politics  they  were  Ray  men  or  Noble  men  or  Hen- 
dricks  men.  In  county  politics,  here  in  Monroe  county,  they  were 
Lowe  men  or  Maxwell  men. 

William  M.  Lowe — or  Judge  Lowe  as  he  was  generally  known — 
and  Dr.  David  H.  Maxwell  were  both  of  them  men  of  force  of  char- 
acter. Both  were  ambitious  and  both  were  politicians.  Both 
served  in  the  first  constitutional  convention  of  the  state,  and  both 
were  honored  with  office  by  the  electors  of  Monroe  county.  Lowe's 
official  life  was  confined  mainly  to  local  executive  offices  in  the 
county,  while  Maxwell's  was  confined  mainly  to  legislative  offices. 
In  a  convention  of  the  friends  of  General  Jackson  held  at  Indian- 
apolis on  January  10,  1828,  an  electoral  ticket  was  formed  with 
William  M.  Lowe,  of  Monroe  county,  as  one  of  the  electors.  Two 
days  later  the  friends  of  Mr.  Adams  held  their  convention  at  the 
same  place,  when  on  motion  of  David  H.  Maxwell  a  committee 
was  appointed  to  select  the  names  of  five  persons  "friendly  to  the 
present  administration"  to  serve  as  presidential  electors;  and  one  of 
the  five  appointed  specially  to  compete  with  Judge  Lowe  was  James 
Armstrong,  of  Monroe.  Dr.  Maxwell  had  himself  served  as  an 
Adams  elector  in  1824. 

On  January  24  of  that  same  year  the  Indiana  College  was 
chartered  and  its  Board  of  Trustees  constituted  with  a  view  to 
satisfying  everybody.  Dr.  Maxwell,  the  Adams  man,  was  of  course 
made  a  member  of  the  new  board,  and  so  was  his  General  Jackson 
competitor,  William  M.  Lowe.  In  May  following,  Dr.  Wylie  was 


70  Indiana  University 

elected  president,  and  in  the  following  October  we  find  him  in 
Bloomington  looking  around.  In  the  same  month  the  board  met 
and  presumably  Dr.  Wylie  with  it.  Be  this  as  it  may,  at  or  a  very 
short  time  after  that  meeting,  Judge  Lowe  resigned  his  trusteeship. 
What  did  that  mean?  The  old  record  gave  no  reason.  Judge  Lowe 
left  no  word  written  or  remembered  behind  him  explanatory  of  the 
causes  of  that  resignation. 

It  is  not  always  an  easy  matter  to  fathom  the  motives  of  a  man, 
and  especially  of  a  silent  man,  but  it  is  in  general  much  easier  to  do 
it  after  than  at  the  time.  All  the  evidence  at  hand  warrants  the 
conclusion  that  Judge  Lowe  was  preparing  himself  to  take  a  part  in 
the  campaign  already  inaugurated  against  the  College  and  those 
having  it  in  charge.  Maxwell  was  an  Adams  man  and  had  doubt- 
less been  instrumental  in  securing  the  appointment  of  a  Monroe 
county  man  to  make  the  race  against  Lowe  as  an  elector.  Wylie 
was  at  least  an  anti-Jackson  man  and  there  is  reason  to  believe  that 
Harney  was  also.  Of  Hall's  politics  nothing  is  known. 

While  it  may  be  safely  assumed  that  no  charge  was  ever  pre- 
ferred against  trustees  or  professors  of  political  proselyting  or  other 
political  wrong-doing,  yet  I  have  an  abiding  conviction  that  political 
prejudice  and  ill  feeling  was  one,  if  not  the  most  potent,  motive 
leading  to  the  attack  in  the  legislature  of  1829.  It  was  so  under- 
stood at  the  time  as  we  shall  presently  see;  and  the  relevant  col- 
lateral facts  point  unerringly  to  the  same  conclusion. 

On  September  24,  1829,  a  somewhat  lengthy  "Address  to  the 
Public",  signed  by  twenty-four  persons  who  say  they  are  students 
of  the  Indiana  College,  or  had  been,  was  printed  in  the  Indiana 
Journal  in  refutation  of  a  "publication  from  the  Republican  States- 
man purporting  to  be  a  memorial  to  the  legislature";  to  which  ad- 
dress was  appended  a  somewhat  extended  explanatory  statement, 
signed  by  "Friends  of  Learning", — which  one  reading  thru  the 
lines  sees  was  Dr.  Maxwell. 

The  Republican  Statesman  was  a  newspaper  printed  somewhere 
by  a  Mr.  Morrison,  but  where  I  do  not  know — probably  in  Bloom- 
ington; but  fortunately  the  writer  of  the  "Address  to  the  Public" 
and  "Friends  of  Learning"  incorporated  in  their  compositions  the 
charges  made  in  the  memorial,  and  we  are  thus  enabled  to  read  in 
the  language  of  the  critics  themselves  their  causes  for  criticism  and 
for  war. 

1st.  The  professors  manifest  great  partiality  in  attending  to  the  interests  of 
some  sectarian  students,  to  the  great  prejudice  and  almost  entire  exclusion  of 
others  equally  worthy,  and  treat  their  application  for  redress  with  insult  and 
neglect. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  71 

3rd.  The  faculty  make  use  of  improper  means  to  induce  the  English  students 
to  withdraw  from  the  English  and  attach  themselves  to  the  Latin  department. 

4th.  The  faculty  employ  ushers  incompetent  to  discharge  the  duties  assigned 
them. 

5th.     The  faculty  neglect  to  spend  in  recitation  the  full  time  appointed  in  law. 

A  sixth  charge  is  insinuated,  says  the  address,  to  wit:  "That 
the  faculty  inculcate  Sectarian  principles". 

The  second  charge  was  leveled  at  the  board,  and  was  in  effect 
that  the  board  had  sustained  the  faculty  in  a  certain  unjust,  but 
unnamed,  ruling. 

To  all  these  charges  against  the  professors,  the  twenty-four 
students  file  their  denial — general  and  special ;  and  they  further  say : 
"We  consider  the  publication  of  the  memorial  to  be  an  ebullition 
of  party  feelings,  having  for  its  object  the  promotion  of  political  ends 
and  the  destruction  of  the  College." 

Whether  this  particular  memorial  was  ever  presented  to  the 
legislature  does  not  now  appear ;  but  if  the  two  or  three  dissatisfied 
students,  its  projectors,  abandoned  the  controversy,  there  were 
those  ready  and  willing  to  take  it  up.  Four  petitions  were  presented 
to  the  legislature  the  ensuing  session  from  citizens  of  as  many 
counties,  calling  for  an  investigation  of  both  professors  and  trustees 
of  the  College.  One  of  these  was  from  William  Lowe  and  sundry 
citizens  of  Monroe  county.  Another  was  from  Washington  county, 
Judge  Lowe's  old  home.  Another  was  from  Clark  county,  and  still 
another  from  Scott. 

Imagine  four  petitions  going  up  to  the  General  Assembly  now  in 
session  at  Indianapolis  from  citizens  of  as  many  counties  praying 
an  inquiry  into  certain  abuses  by  trustees  and  professors  of  our 
beloved  University.  What  consternation  it  would  create!  How 
much  greater  that  consternation  must  have  been  in  that  day  of 
weakness  and  littleness ! 

The  students  were  swift  in  sending  up  their  remonstrance  against 
these  petitions,  and  with  it  went  "sundry  communications  from 
different  individuals".  Petitions,  remonstrance,  and  communica- 
tions were  referred  to  the  committee  of  education  in  each  branch  of 
the  Assembly.  In  the  Senate  Dr.  Maxwell  himself  was  chairman  of 
that  committee,  and  in  the  House,  Horace  Bassett.  Dr.  Wylie, 
mounting  his  horse,  rode  up  to  the  capitol,  when  "by  request  of  the 
standing  committees  on  education  of  the  present  General  Assembly", 
says  a  chronicler  of  the  times,  he  delivered  on  Sunday,  January  17, 
at  the  Methodist  church,  which  was  the  largest  in  the  town,  a  dis- 
course on  the  subject  of  education, — a  discourse  which  was  not  only 


72  Indiana  University 

printed  in  the  newspapers  of  the  day,  but  received  highly  compli- 
mentary editorial  notices,  and  a  vote  of  thanks  from  the  General  As- 
sembly itself.  Maxwell's  and  Bassett's  committees  reported  ad- 
versely to  the  petitioners,  and  so  the  campaign  against  the  College 
proved  a  failure  for  that  time. 

But  it  was  renewed  the  next  year,  and  the  next,  and  the  next,  and 
so  on.  There  was  to  be  no  peace  for  the  Indiana  College  yet  awhile. 
If  politics  entered  as  a  motive  in  the  attack  of  1829,  as  I  think  it 
did,  it  was  soon  eliminated,  and  sectarianism  substituted  in  its 
place. 

By  the  meeting  of  the  next  General  Assembly,  the  enemy  re- 
formed his  lines  and  the  attack  was  renewed.  Petitions  came  again 
from  Monroe,  from  Clark,  from  Owen,  and  from  Warrick  counties, 
the  burden  of  which  was,  Drive  Sectarianism  out  of  the  Indiana 
College ! 

Was  it  there  to  drive  out? 

The  faculty  said  it  was  not;  the  students  said  it  was  not;  the 
Board  of  Trustees  said  it  was  not;  and  legislative  committees  said  it 
was  not; — but  what  did  all  these  denials  amount  to  in  the  face  of 
the  fact  that  all  three  of  the  members  of  the  faculty  were  Presby- 
terians? That  was  the  quality  of  Sectarianism  the  malcontents  were 
warning  against. 

In  the  report  of  the  trustees  for  December,  1830,  after  entering  a 
solemn  denial,  the  names  of  the  fourteen  trustees  are  set  out,  after 
which  follows  this  somewhat  remarkable  statement: 

Of  this  board  it  is  believed  four  are  Presbyterians,  or  at  least  were  so  educated; 
four  Protestant  Episcopalians;  three  Baptists;  two  Methodists;  one  Covenanter; 
and  one  a  member  of  the  Christian  Society  or  Church.  Out  of  such  a  mixture  of 
religious  opinion  it  cannot  reasonably  be  supposed,  that  a  majority  could  be  pre- 
vailed upon  to  establish,  or  in  any  respect  to  countenance  a  sectarian  denomination. 

Again  the  educational  committees  reported  exonerating  the  Col- 
lege management,  but  the  disturbance  went  on.  There  is  evidence 
of  a  growing  legislative  discontent.  Two  or  three  members  offered 
resolutions  looking  to  the  lowering  of  tuition  fees;  one  member 
wanted  the  law  changed  so  that  orphan  children  could  attend  free; 
another  that  "poor  and  indigent  students  who  are  unable  to  educate 
themselves"  should  "receive  tuition  in  said  College  gratuitously". 
But  it  remained  for  the  member  from  Putnam  to  come  forward  with 
the  most  startling  of  all  the  propositions: 

Resolved,  That  the  committee  on  education  be  instructed  to  inquire  into  the 
expediency  of  so  amending  the  existing  charter  of  the  State  College  at  Blooming- 
ton  as  to  prohibit  the  trustees  thereof  from  continuing  after  the  expiration  of 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  73 

existing  contracts  any  two  professors  or  teachers  of  the  same  religious  sect  or 
profession;  and  also  to  prohibit  the  appointment  hereafter  of  any  two  preachers 
of  the  same  religious  dreed  as  professors  or  teachers  in  said  institution. 

A  petition  from  "Amos  Lake  and  others"  was  of  the  same  tenor; 
and  resolution  and  petition  being  referred  to  the  committee  on 
education,  that  committee  in  vigorous  language  showed  how  a  com- 
pliance with  the  prayer  of  the  parties  would  result  not  only  in  mak- 
ing the  qualifications  of  the  Indiana  College  professors  depend  upon 
their  church  membership  rather  than  their  scholarship,  but  would 
be  right  in  the  teeth  of  the  constitution,  which  declared  "that  no 
preference  shall  ever  be  given  by  law  to  any  religious  societies ;  .  . 
and  no  religious  test  shall  be  required  as  a  qualification  to  any  office 
of  profit  or  trust". 

In  spite  of  all  this  threatening  and  warning  and  attempts  at 
legislative  tinkering,  the  College  prospered.  Its  reputation  spread 
abroad,  and  its  classrooms  were  filled  with  students  from  almost 
every  state  in  the  West  and  South.  At  the  opening  of  the  fall  term 
in  1830,  it  became  necessary  to  establish  a  preparatory  department, 
which  continued  down  to  the  close  of  last  year  (1890),  a  period  of 
sixty  years. 

In  the  spring  of  that  same  year  (1830),  the  new  departure  car- 
ried away  the  old  Seminary  Henodelphisterian  Society.  "Too  many 
great  men  found  themselves  members  of  that  society",  said  one  who 
had  been  one  of  them;  and  on  February  12,  1830,  Randall  and  Rol- 
lins and  John  L.  Ketcham  and  Andrew  Wylie,  Jr.,  and  five  others — all 
of  whom  are  dead  save  now  the  venerable  Judge  Wylie,  of  Wash- 
ington City — withdrew  and  organized  the  Athenian  Society.  The 
next  year  (1831),  according  to  Lewis  Bollman,  the  remaining  mem- 
bers of  the  Henodelphisterian, — Lewis  Bollman,  James  D.  Maxwell, 
P.  L.  D.  Mitchell,  the  Dunns  (James  W.,  Samuel  C,  and  W.  Mc- 
Kee),  and  others,  "disbanded  and  merged"  (says  Judge  Wright) 
into  the  Philomathean  Society. 

The  Indiana  College  was  on  the  up-grade  and  rapidly  becoming 
a  center  of  light  and  learning  in  the  state.  Its  president  was  recog- 
nixed  as  the  leader  of  the  educational  forces  of  the  state.  His  ad- 
dresses, whether  from  the  college  rostrum  on  commencement  days, 
or  to  the  historical  societies,  or  to  colonization  societies,  or  to 
legislative  assemblies,  were  fountains  of  instruction  which  the  public 
press  gave  to  the  people  as  a  part  of  the  literature  of  the  times. 

To  him  who  studies  the  history  of  the  moral  and  intellectual 
growth  of  our  state  during  its  earlier  and  more  plastic  period,  there 
comes  the  comforting  thought  that  the  men  who  judged  that  the 


74  Indiana  University 

time  had  come  for  the  organization  of  a  college  in  Indiana,  judged 
wisely  and  well. 

As  we  look  back  over  the  intervening  years  and  read  the  story  of 
our  state's  intellectual  and  moral  and  even  material  growth,  that 
judgment  stands  vindicated  on  every  page  of  its  history. 

And  whatever  may  be  in  store  for  our  loved  Alma  Mater  in  the 
future,  in  the  catalog  of  the  forces  for  good  in  Indiana's  earlier 
years,  must  forever  stand  written — INDIANA  COLLEGE. 

IV.    THE  "FACULTY  WAR"  OF  18321 

THERE  was  a  time  when  the  historians  disagreed  as  to  whether 
Daniel  Boone  ever  visited  the  east  Tennessee  country  prior  to  the 
time  of  its  first  settlement.  The  evidence  was  not  conclusive  either 
way,  and  so  some  thought  he  had  and  some  thought  he  had  not.  At 
last  this  inscription  was  found  cut  in  the  bark  of  a  beech  tree  growing 
on  the  banks  of  a  tributary  of  the  Watauga : 

"D.  Boon  CilleD  A  BAR  on  Tree  in  THE  YEAR  1760." 

And  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  D.  Boone  spelled  "killed" 
with  a  c  and  "bear"  without  an  e,  the  historians  accepted  the  legend 
as  conclusive  of  the  fact  that  Daniel  Boone  had  visited  the  country 
at  the  time  indicated. 

The  inscriptions  found  on  the  trees,  on  the  rocks,  monuments, 
walls,  and  so  on  are  usually  received  in  the  courts  of  history  as  satis- 
factory evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  facts  to  which  they  bear  witness, 
but  not  always.  Sometimes  we  happen  to  know  better.  There  is 
one  inscription  very  close  to  us  that  falsifies  the  truth  of  history.  It 
is  over  the  east  front  entrance  of  this  College  building.  It  states 
that  the  Indiana  University  was  founded  in  1830,  and  for  the  benefit 
of  those  who  may  not  happen  to  know  better,  let  me  say  that  there  is 
not  a  word  of  truth  in  that  statement.2  The  Indiana  Seminary  was 
chartered  on  January  20,  1820,  the  day  we  commemorate.  The 
school  was  opened  on  the  first  day  of  May,  1 824.  The  Indiana  Semi- 
nary was  legislated  into  Indiana  College  on  January  24,  1828,  and 
ten  years  thereafter  the  name  was  changed  to  that  of  the  Indiana 
University. 

'Read  by  Judge  Banta  at  the  annual  Foundation  Day  exercises  in  the  Old  College  building  (now 
the  old  high  school  building)  on  January  20,  1892. 

*The  stone  bearing  the  inscription  to  which  Judge  Banta  refers  is  now  over  the  east  entrance 
to  the  Well  House  on  the  present  campus,  having  been  removed  thither  after  the  sale  of  the  Old 
College  building  to  the  city  of  Bloomington.  The  date  "1830",  however,  has  been  corrected  to 
read  "1820". 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  75 

On  the  first  Monday  of  May  succeeding  the  College  chartering, 
the  first  president,  Dr.  Andrew  Wylie,  was  elected;  ten  months 
thereafter  he  signified  his  acceptance,  and  on  October  9,  1829,  he 
arrived  in  Bloomington  and  entered  upon  his  presidential  duties. 

I  know  of  no  excuse  for  the  false  record  inscribed  in  the  stone  over 
the  College  door,  and  I  know  not  whether  it  was  the  result  of  ignor- 
ance or  of  mistake.  There  was  nothing  connected  with  this  institu- 
tion which  was  founded  in  1830. 

The  story  of  the  institution  has  been  told  on  preceding  Founda- 
tion Days,  after  a  fashion,  from  the  beginning  down  to  the  close  of 
the  collegiate  year  of  1831-32, — all  save  the  story  of  a  certain  faculty 
controversy  which,  beginning  not  long  after  Dr.  Wylie's  coming,  was 
waged  with  unprecedented  bitterness  to  the  close  of  that  year,  when 
it  ended  in  a  complete  disruption  of  the  faculty  and  threatened  the 
integrity  of  the  College  itself. 

Anyone  who  has  followed,  with  even  slight  attention,  the  story 
thus  far  told,  must  have  perceived  how  surely  difficulty  had  fol- 
lowed difficulty,  and  discouragement  discouragement,  all  the  way 
along.  Before  that  May  Day  in  1824,  when  the  schoolboy  rabble 
with  horn-book  and  spelling-book,  English  reader  and  Western  Cal- 
culator, was  thinned  out  to  ten  lads  with  Ross's  Latin  Grammar  or 
Cheeve's  Accidence,  down  to  the  day  in  1831  when  the  thread  of  the 
story  is  again  taken  up,  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the  institution 
had  never  known  a  day's  peace.  There  was  always  something  to 
threaten  its  continued  existence,  or  to  mar  the  harmony  of  its  sur- 
roundings. There  was  never  a  day,  nor  an  hour,  when  war  was  not 
in  active  preparation  or  actually  waging,  against  it  or  against  those 
having  it  in  charge. 

There  was,  however,  during  all  that  time  one  shaft  of  light  pierc- 
ing the  gloom.  The  utmost  harmony  prevailed  between  teacher  and 
teacher,  teachers  and  students,  and  teachers  and  trustees.  But  that 
harmony  is  now  about  to  be  broken  in  all  of  its  relations,  and  a 
succession  of  events  to  take  place  of  such  calamitous  consequence  as 
to  cause  the  friends  of  the  institution  to  despair  of  its  life.  It  has 
been  a  question  with  me  whether  I  ought  or  ought  not  to  tell  the 
story  of  that  baleful  time.  All  who  were  actors  in  those  wretched 
scenes  are  dead,  and  of  each  I  can  say: 

The  good  knight's  sword  is  rust 
The  good  knight's  bones  are  dust 
And  his  soul  is  with  the  saints,  I  trust. 

But  the  story  cannot  be  told  and  not  told.  The  events  to  which 
allusion  is  made  left  a  deep  scar  upon  the  history  of  the  institution, 


76  Indiana  University 

and  a  presentation  of  that  history  without  showing  the  scar  would 
by  that  much  be  an  untrue  presentation. 

President  Wylie,  as  has  already  been  stated,  began  his  labors  here 
in  the  fall  of  1829.  With  him  were  associated  the  Rev.  Baynard  R. 
Hall,  professor  of  Greek  and  Latin,  and  John  M.  Harney,  professor 
of  natural  philosophy  and  of  mathematics. 

How  long  the  faculty  as  thus  constituted  worked  together  in  har- 
mony is  not  now  certainly  known.  If  we  accept  The  New  Purchase, 
Professor  Hall's  book,  as  authority,  it  would  seem  that  it  could  not 
have  been  for  long.  But  in  the  absence  of  corroborating  circum- 
stances, The  New  Purchase  cannot  be  accepted  as  conclusive  evidence 
of  the  truth  of  any  matter  connected  with  the  subject  under  dis- 
cussion, except  as  to  admissions  of  bad  conduct  made  by  the 
writer,  and  sometimes  of  bad  conduct  by  his  colleague,  Professor 
Harney.  I  refer  in  this  connection  to  the  first  edition  published  in 
1843.3 

There  are,  however,  circumstances  that  tend  to  support  the 
New  Purchase  statement  in  this  particular. 

It  has  always  seemed  reasonable  to  me  that  Professor  Hall  should 
himself  have  aspired  to  the  presidency  of  the  Indiana  College.  He 
was  a  man  of  talent  and  learning,  he  was  an  able  and  eloquent 
preacher,  and  as  principal  of  the  Seminary  he  had  acquitted  himself 
well.  Why  not,  he  of  all  men,  have  indulged  the  aspiration? 

We  have  his  own  statement  to  the  effect  that  his  name  had  been 
mentioned  in  that  connection.  "Distant  and  learned  gentlemen  to 
whom",  he  says,  he  had  written  inquiring  after  presidential  candi- 
dates, had  replied  earnestly  recommending  himself,  but  he  declined 
the  nomination,  "unwisely",  however,  as  he  seems  afterwards  to 
have  thought.4  It  is  very  true  that  his  name  seems  never  to  have 
been  considered  in  that  connection  by  the  trustees,  and  the  evidence 
is  moreover  conclusive  that  both  himself  and  Harney  joined  in 

*In  the  second  edition  of  The  New  Purchase  (published  in  one  volume,  at  New  Albany,  In  d. 
in  1855,  by  John  R.  Nunemacher),  the  treatment  of  this  matter  is  very  much  curtailed  and  con- 
siderably softened.  The  motives  underlying  the  alterations  are  indicated  in  a  series  of  manuscript 
letters  from  Hall  to  Nunemacher,  which  recently  came  into  the  possession  of  the  University  by 
gift  from  Nunemacher's  daughter.  Under  date  of  March  13,  1855,  Hall  writes:  "In  the  work  are 
here  and  there  certain  words  and  expressions  that  have  caused  me  often  much  sorrow  in  remem- 
brance, and  I  would  have  given  many  dollars  if  they  could  have  been  blotted  out.  And  more 
especially  there  would  be  so  manifest  an  unkindness  in  reprinting  a  vast  amount  of  what  pertains 
to  the  late  President  of  a  certain  college,  that  I  would  nearly  as  soon  consent  to  have  a  finger  taken 
off  as  to  continue  that."  Later  he  reminds  Mr.  Nunemacher  that  "all  the  chapters  and  passages 
in  the  second  volume  relative  to  Dr.  Bloduplex  (President  Wylie)  are  by  all  means  to  be  discarded." 
Professor  Hall  adds,  however:  "This  gentleman  richly  deserved  all  that  was  done  to  him  some 
years  ago,  but  he  is  now  in  the  other  life,  and  I  hope  in  a  better  one." 

«  The  New  Purchase  (1843)  II,  235-6, 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  77 

presenting  Wylie's  name  to  the  board;  but  for  all  that,  Professor 
Hall  was  not  the  man  to  press  his  own  claims.  He  was  the  man, 
however,  to  think  that  if  he  had  any  claims  his  friends  ought  to 
know  it  and  push  them  for  him  without  waiting  to  be  set  in  motion 
by  him.  He  was  a  man  of  lofty  ambition,  and  he  had  come  to  the 
West  five  years  before,  as  he  tells  us,  to  become  a  leader  in  its  higher 
educational  work.  And  so  it  is  certainly  quite  reasonable  to  believe 
that  he  himself  aspired  to  the  position  of  president,  and  I  think 
the  circumstances  warrant  us  in  thinking  that  he  did  so  aspire — 
a  fact  to  be  kept  in  mind  in  following  the  discussion  of  the  subject 
before  us. 

Dr.  Wylie  was  in  many  respects  a  remarkable  man.  He  was  born 
to  lead,  not  to  follow.  The  painting  of  him  in  the  library  shows  that 
he  had  the  elongated  Andrew  Jackson  type  of  face  and  hea$.  He 
possessed  many  qualifications  that  go  to  make  the  leader  of  men. 
He  usually  saw  his  way  clearly  and  he  went  straight  to  his  goal.  The 
greater  the  difficulty,  the  more  determined  and  the  more  certain  he 
was  to  surmount  it.  What  he  lacked  was  in  tact.  He  was  not  given 
to  persuasion  but  to  command.  He  never  masqueraded.  He  might, 
indeed,  admit  that  he  was  in  the  wrong.  I  find  one  instance  when  he 
seems  to  have  done  that,  but  he  never  sniffled  over  it.  If  he  was 
right,  those  who  followed  him  were  sure  to  go  right,  for  when  once 
on  the  right  track,  he  was  sure  to  stay  there.  There  was  nothing 
vacillating  or  uncertain  about  him.  After  a  fight  was  over,  he  never 
spoke  ill  of  his  enemy,  but  he  was  a  good  hater  nevertheless.  Taken 
all  in  all,  he  was  rigid,  masterful,  and  uncompromising. 

Baynard  R.  Hall  was  in  many  respects  the  very  opposite  of  An- 
drew Wylie.  He  was  genial,  jovial,  and  merry-hearted.  He  attended 
the  frontier  shooting  matches  and  quilting  frolics,  and  laughed  with 
the  loudest.  He  was  a  tactician  and  went  around  things.  When  the 
storm  came,  like  the  turtle  in  his  shell,  he  drew  his  head  in  and 
waited  for  the  storm  to  blow  over.  He  was  emotional,  poetic,  light- 
hearted,  and  took  things  easy.  But  he  had  a  long  memory.  He 
never  forgot  nor  forgave.  He,  too,  was  a  good  hater.  Eleven  years 
after  he  left  the  Indiana  College  a  defeated,  humiliated  man,  he 
wrote  of  the  causes  of  his  defeat  and  humiliation,  with  a  pen  dipped 
in  gall. 

John  M.  Harney,  young  and  inexperienced  as  he  was,  already 
shadowed  those  qualities  and  characteristics  that  were  to  make  him 
the  great  editor  that  he  was  destined  to  become.  He  was  a  silent 
man,  an  exacting  man,  a  combative  man,  a  patient  man,  a  strong 


78  Indiana  University 

man,  an  invincible  man.  Wylie  and  Hall  were  so  unlike  that  they 
could  never  fight  a  pitched  battle,  for  Hall  would  draw  off  his 
forces  and  treat  for  peace  or  abandon  the  contest  entirely.  But 
between  Wylie  and  Harney  there  was  great  similarity.  Both  were 
pugnacious,  and  if  there  was  any  compromise  in  either  it  certainly 
never  manifested  itself  in  the  great  faculty  fight  of  1831-32. 

Men  admired  the  tall,  graceful,  grave,  stately-stepping,  and  dig- 
nified Wylie.  Men  loved  the  blue-eyed,  jolly,  laughing,  easy-going 
Hall.  Men  feared  the  erect,  precise,  nervous,  heavy-jawed,  firmly- 
stepping,  neatly  dressed,  military-looking  Harney. 

I  am  slow  to  accept  Professor  Hall's  statement  that  the  trouble 
began  quite  soon  after  Dr.  Wylie's  coming.  Still,  the  character  of 
the  three  men  and  the  complexion  of  the  times  in  which  they  lived 
corroborate  the  New  Purchase  version. 

But  there  is  other  and  perhaps  better  corroborative  evidence. 
The  first  catalog  of  which  we  have  any  knowledge  was  printed  for  the 
collegiate  year  1830-31,  and  it  was  not  written  by  a  committee  of  the 
faculty,  nor  under  the  supervision  of  a  committee.  From  language 
used  in  that  first  catalog,  it  is  quite  evident  that  the  faculty  as  such 
had  little  or  nothing  to  do  with  the  domestic  management  of  the 
institution;  and  the  fact  must,  no  doubt,  have  been  a  cause  of  irrita- 
tion to  the  two  professors,  and  especially  so  to  Professor  Hall,  who 
had  for  so  long  a  time  been  at  its  head  and,  as  we  have  seen,  prob- 
ably been  an  aspirant  for  the  presidency  himself.  In  truth,  Hall  in 
connection  with  his  statement  that  the  trouble  soon  began  suggests 
as  a  cause  that,  from  the  first,  the  president  treated  him  and  Har- 
ney as  if  they  were  no  more  than  ushers  in  the  school. 

This  view  is  corroborated  by  Dr.  E.  N.  Elliott  who,  succeeding 
Harney  to  the  chair  of  mathematics,  was  here  from  1832  to  1836,  and 
of  course  had  excellent  opportunity  to  learn  all  the  facts.  Indeed,  he 
says  that  Dr.  Wylie  gave  him  a  full  account  of  these  very  trouble- 
some times,  and  therefore,  when  I  quote  him,  I  do  it  with  the  under- 
standing that  I  am  giving  Dr.  Wylie's  version  thru  Dr.  Elliott's 
memory.  This  you  will  see  is  but  hearsay  evidence,  but  it  is  deemed 
relevant  in  the  courts  of  history,  if  not  in  the  courts  of  law.  Dr. 
Elliott  says : 

As  the  trustees  knew  nothing  about  the  management  of  colleges,  and  Dr.  Wylie 
had  had  extensive  experience  in  Washington  and  Jefferson  colleges,  he  considered 
himself  entitled  to  have  a  controlling  voice  in  the  management  of  the  institution. 
This  the  professors  resented,  as  it  not  only  diminished  their  power  but  also  the 
esteem  in  which  they  were  held  in  the  community. 

In  view  of  all  the  circumstances,  I  think  it  very  probable  that 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  79 

trouble  began  in  the  faculty  very  soon  after  its  organization,  and 
both  Hall  and  Elliott  agree  that  it  arose  over  the  question  of  where 
the  power  of  local  government  lay. 

But  there  is  another  material  fact  to  be  considered  in  this  place. 
A  number  of  students  followed  Dr.  Wylie  from  his  Pennsylvania  col- 
lege, and  between  these  and  the  students  already  on  the  ground  there 
soon  sprang  up  an  intensely  sectional  ill-feeling.  Professor  Hall  in 
his  book  hints  at  this,  and  all  who  were  students  here  at  the  time  with 
whom  I  have  talked  concerning  it  have  proved  it  to  be  true.  One 
man,  now  a  venerable  ex-judge  of  the  state,  said  to  me  that,  to  add 
to  the  ill-feeling  existing  between  the  two  factions,  the  "foreigners" 
were  better  dressed  and  had  more  money  than  the  "natives",  and 
withal  were  perhaps  a  little  wickeder ;  and  that  the  girls  of  the  village, 
attracted  by  these  glittering  parts,  gave  their  smiles  more  freely  to 
the  former  than  to  the  latter.  Some  of  you  will  perhaps  remember 
that  the  statement  was  made  last  year,  that  in  the  beginning  and  up 
to  1832  there  was  but  one  literary  society,  the  Henodelphisterian, 
connected  with  the  institution;  but  in  that  year  there  was  a  with- 
drawal of  members,  who  were  mainly  "foreigners",  who  founded  the 
Athenian  Society.  The  cause  of  this  withdrawal  may  be  seen  in  the 
jealousies  between  the  "native"  and  "foreign"  students. 

It  is  remembered  that  the  "foreign"  faction  began,  shortly  after 
their  arrival,  to  find  fault  with  Professor  Hall.  Their  charge  was 
that  he  was  "indolent",  "neglectful",  "unaccommodating",  and  "in- 
competent". In  the  making  of  the  charge,  there  seems  to  have  been 
an  assumption  of  superiority  on  the  one  side  which  was  peculiarly 
galling  to  the  other.  At  any  rate,  the  other  side  most  earnestly  and 
indignantly  denied  that  there  was  any  ground  at  all  for  the  charge. 
They,  the  old  students  of  the  institution,  had  learned  to  look  with 
love  and  reverence  upon  their  first  professor,  and  we  can  readily 
imagine  the  bitter  length  to  which  such  a  controversy  could  be  car- 
ried by  the  contending  factions. 

Professor  Hall,  no  doubt,  suspected  from  the  first  that  Dr.  Wylie 
inspired  this  student  criticism,  nor  can  there  be  much  doubt  that  it 
tended  to  promote  ill-feeling  in  the  faculty  at  an  early  day,  as 
claimed  in  The  New  Purchase,  tho  no  open  outbreak  immediately 
came  of  it. 

Out  of  this  student  factiousness  came  that  which  ultimately  led 
to  the  first  difficulty  of  which  the  public  could  get  a  glimpse.  I  refer 
to  the  anonymous  letter.  Sometime  toward  the  close  of  the  collegi- 
ate year  of  1830-31,  probably  in  September — which  was  nearly  a 
year  after  Dr.  Wylie  came — Professor  Hall  found  in  his  "pocket 


80  Indiana  University 

Virgil,  left  as  usual  on  the  mantel  of  his  recitation  room",  an 
anonymous  letter,  which  taxed  him  in  very  plain  language  with  the 
same  charges  current  among  the  "foreign"  students — incompetency 
and  neglect  of  duty — and  demanded  his  resignation.5 

Hall  and  Harney  both  promptly  came  to  the  conclusion  that  Dr. 
Wylie  was  the  author  of  that  letter.  The  evidence  of  that  fact  was 
wholly  circumstantial,  it  is  true;  nevertheless  it  appeared  to  be 
flawless,  and  was  convincing  to  a  moral  certainty.  "It  was",  says 
Matthew  M.  Campbell,  who  for  so  long  a  time  was  the  worthy 
head  of  the  preparatory  department  of  both  the  College  and  the 
University,  and  who  was  a  student  here  at  the  time  the  letter  was 
written,  and  who  for  forty  years  kept  the  secret  of  the  writer — "It 
was  strong  enough  to  hang  a  saint."  The  letter  was  written  on 
Dr.  Wylie's  own  paper,  with  his  own  ink,  and  in  a  well-simulated 
hand.  "The  style,  the  words,  the  expressions",  the  "grammatical 
peculiarities",  were  believed  to  be  the  Doctor's.  But,  as  if  to  "make 
assurance  double  sure",  the  wafer  or  sealing  wafer  bore  the  impress 
or  stamp  mark  of  Dr.  Wylie's  own  desk  key\  No  wonder  that  Pro- 
fessor Campbell  exclaimed  that  the  evidence  that  Dr.  Wylie  wrote 
it  was  "strong  enough  to  hang  a  saint!" 

And  yet  Dr.  Wylie  did  not  write  that  letter.  It  was  written  by  a 
Pennsylvania  student,  "without",  as  he  himself  says,  "the  knowl- 
edge, suggestion,  remotest  hint  or  suspicion"  on  the  part  of  Dr. 
Wylie.  I  do  not  know  that  the  Doctor  ever  knew  who  was  its  author, 
but  I  do  know  that  he  solemnly  and  indignantly  denied  its  author- 
ship to  Professor  Hall ;  and  it  would  seem  that  Hall,  at  the  time,  must 
have  believed  him.  But  on  the  breaking  out  of  fresh  troubles,  the 
solemn  and  indignant  denial  went  for  naught,  and  eleven  years 
afterwards  he  painstakingly  set  himself  to  the  task  of  proving  that 
the  Doctor  was  its  author. 

The  letter  led  to  Hall's  resignation.  "That  very  week",  he  says, 
he  sent  in  his  resignation,  "offering  however  to  remain  till  the  meet- 
ing of  the  board".  A  partial  copy  of  that  letter,  taken  from  the  old 
record  which  was  destroyed  by  the  fire  of  July  12,  1883,  still  re- 
mains; and  it  is  curious  to  note  that  he  writes,  "The  sole  reason  for 
this  offer  is  my  dissatisfaction  with  the  present  salary  attached  to 
my  office,  and  which,  allow  me  to  say,  is  a  reason  to  be  remedied  by 
your  honorable  board  if  it  desires  to  retain  me  in  its  employ." 

This  was  certainly  strange  language  to  be  used  in  the  face  of 
the  anonymous  letter ;  and  I  am  unable  to  explain  it  upon  any  other 

*  The  New  Purchase  (1843),  II,  230-1. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  81 

hypothesis,  save  that  Hall  was,  for  the  time  being,  satisfied  with  the 
Doctor's  denial. 

The  board  accepted  Hall's  resignation,  but  made  the  usual 
mistake  in  such  cases  of  requesting  him  to  remain  a  year  longer  at  a 
salary  of  $750,  to  which  he  agreed,  "unless  an  offer  of  employment 
came  from  elsewhere  which  he  could  not  afford  to  neglect". 

No  further  trouble  is  heard  of  for  a  period  of  about  nine  months. 
The  fires  were  smouldering,  however,  and  a"t  the  coming  of  the  first 
breeze  were  liable  to  leap  into  flame.  The  breeze  came  in  May  or 
June  of  the  following  year  (1832).  The  occasion  was  a  spring  ex- 
hibition. Exhibitions  were  important  affairs  in  college  life  in  those 
days.  Orations,  declamations,  debates,  essays,  and  dramatical  per- 
formances were  the  exercises  usually  given.  Whole  days  would 
sometimes  be  appropriated  to  an  exhibition.  I  found  an  account  not 
long  ago  of  one  given  by  the  students  of  Franklin  College,  during 
the  early  period  of  its  history,  which  occupied  the  better  part  of 
two  days,  and  they  did  not  charge  an  admission  fee  either. 

Alas!  Alas!  One  by  one  the  cherished  customs  of  the  Fathers 
take  their  flight  and  come  back  to  us  no  more,  forever.  The  old- 
time  spring  exhibition,  with  its  odor  of  cedar  browse,  its  thunder  of 
the  bass  drum,  its  marchings  in  of  the  College  societies,  its  warm  and 
fervid  oratory — who  that  ever  spoke  his  "piece"  at  a  spring  exhibi- 
tion and  received  heartier  applause  and  more  of  it  than  ever  after- 
wards he  received,  can  forget  the  occasion  of  his  greatest  victory! 

The  Indiana  College  spring  exhibition  was  a  less  elaborate  affair 
than  the  Franklin  one  of  later  date.  It  consisted  of  orations  only, 
and  probably  it  was  put  by  in  half  a  day.  At  any  rate,  it  was  held 
in  the  then  newly-built  Presbyterian  church  on  the  corner  of  Fourth 
and  Washington  streets.  It  is  now  occupied  by  the  Baptists  and  has 
been  rebuilt  on  the  old  foundation.  Portions  of  the  old  walls  have 
been  built  in  with  the  new  as  is  plain  to  be  seen  by  any  passer-by.6 

The  new  church  was  then  unfinished,  and  it  may  serve  as  a  bit  of 
local  coloring  to  the  history  of  the  times  to  state  that  the  carpenters 
were  at  work  on  the  inside  finishing,  and  that  all  save  one  aban- 
doned their  planes  and  saws  for  the  exhibition.  Their  benches  were 
pushed  to  one  side  and  the  floor  was  swept  clean.  One  grim  old 
carpenter  engaged  upon  the  work,  who  was  a  Presbyterian  as  well 
and  held  that  the  fiddle  in  the  church  was  an  abomination,  declared 
his  unwillingness  to  lose  his  day's  work.  The  exhibition  could  go 
on  if  its  promoters  chose,  but  he  was  going  on  also;  and  so  he  planed 

•Since  the  delivery  of  this  address,  a  stone  church  building  has  superseded  the  brick  one  known 
to  Judge  Banta. 


82  Indiana  University 

away.  His  bench  stood  next  the  north  wall;  and  as  the  auditors 
came  in,  the  first  things  that  caught  their  eyes  were  the  long  ribbons 
of  wood  curling  from  Carpenter  Clark's  sharp  plane. 

Presently  the  procession  from  the  College,  composed  of  musi- 
cians, faculty,  officers,  students,  and  citizens  came  filing  in.  There 
was  a  triangle,  a  fiddle,  a  bass  viol,  a  drum,  and  a  clarinet.  James 
W.  Whitcomb,  a  brilliant  young  lawyer  of  the  town  and  subsequently 
a  governor,  a  United  States  senator,  and  a  foreign  minister,  played 
the  fiddle.  John  Orchard,  one  of  the  proprietors  of  the  Orchard 
House  and  a  pillar  in  the  church,  played  the  bass  viol;  and  Austin 
Seward  blew  on  the  wind  instrument.  Who  struck  the  triangle  and 
who  the  drum,  the  muse  of  history  does  not  record. 

The  boys  applauded  the  carpenter,  of  course,  but  he  kept  planing 
away.  As  the  house  filled  up,  the  last  to  come  in  found  seats  in  the 
rear,  where  the  curling  shavings  and  the  dust  and  slivers  alighted  on 
the  gowns  and  spring  bonnets  of  the  Bloomington  matrons  and 
maidens.  At  once  a  vigorous  dusting  of  gowns  began,  accompanied 
by  remarks  that  doubtless  made  the  carpenter's  ears  tingle.  Mean- 
while the  boys  kept  on  applauding.  The  commotion  catching  the 
president's  attention,  he  arose,  and  looking  in  the  carpenter's  direc- 
tion, and  assuming  an  air  of  amazement,  he  exclaimed:  "What  does 
this  mean?  I  wouldn't  be  more  surprised  at  the  sight  of  a  wild  bear 
from  the  woods!"  The  carpenter  could  stand  it  no  longer.  A  pro- 
position had  been  made  by  Mr.  Orchard  and  others  to  pay  him  his 
day's  wages,  which  he  now  gladly  accepted ;  and  dropping  his  plane 
he  left  the  house  and  the  exhibition  went  on. 

There  was  a  students'  temperance  society  in  existence  here  at  the 
time,  the  members  of  which  elected  one  of  their  number,  Samuel 
Givens,  a  fiery  Kentuckian,  to  represent  them  on  the  occasion. 
Givens  requested  that  he  be  permitted  to  speak  either  first  or  last, 
and  Dr.  Wylie  agreed  to  his  request;  but  when  the  program  was 
made  out  the  Doctor,  forgetting  the  request  and  his  promise,  the 
temperance  orator  was  assigned  an  intermediate  place  on  it.  Be- 
cause of  this,  Givens  declined  to  appear,  and  when  his  name  was 
reached  Dr.  Wylie  rising  said,  "I  see  that  the  gentleman  is  absent 
for  reasons  which  I  suppose  he  may  deem  satisfactory";  and  he 
called  the  next  speaker. 

"It  was  the  rule  then  that  students  were  called  upon  in  chapel 
Saturday  mornings  to  give  in  public  their  excuses  for  any  absences  or 
failures  in  duty  that  had  occurred  during  the  week.  Accordingly, 
Givens  was  called  upon  to  account  for  his  absence  at  the  spring 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  83 

speaking."  He  answered,  giving  as  a  reason  that  he  did  not  wish  to 
speak  unless  it  was  first  or  last,  and  referred  to  the  promise  that  had 
been  made  to  him  in  that  matter.  The  president  admitted  the 
promise,  but  said  he  had  forgotten  it  until  it  was  too  late. 

But  the  young  man  was  not  satisfied.  With  an  impertinence  that 
is  astounding  to  us,  but  which  no  doubt  came  of  that  factious  spirit 
so  prevalent  at  the  time  among  the  students,  he  gave  the  president  to 
understand  that  he  was  not  at  all  satisfied  with  his  explanation.  The 
Doctor,  with  a  spirit  of  patience  that  it  seems  to  me  was  remarkable 
in  him,  again  stated  that  it  was  true  he  had  made  the  promise,  but  he 
had  entirely  forgotten  the  matter  when  he  came  to  make  up  the  pro- 
gram, and  continuing  he  asked  this  question,  "Would  any  gentleman 
under  the  same  circumstances  and  the  circumstances  known  to  him 
act  as  you  have  in  this  matter?" 

Springing  to  his  feet  the  young  man  tiptoeing  said,  "I  would,  sir!" 
"Then",  replied  the  Doctor,  "you  would  be  a  very  mean  man",  or  as 
another  puts  it,  "You  would  act  very  meanly." 

The  impertinence  of  Givens  could  not  very  well  be  overlooked 
and  something  had  to  be  done.  Professor  Hall  says  that  the  Doctor 
on  his  own  motion  pronounced  an  "immediate  sentence  of  dismis- 
sion" of  the  "noble  and  ingenious  young  man" ;  but  no  corroborating 
evidence  exists.  That  the  faculty  disagreed  as  to  what  the  discipline 
should  be,  there  is  no  doubt;  and  it  is  very  reasonable  to  suppose 
that  Wylie  was  in  favor  of  extreme  measures  while  Hall  and  Harney 
were  in  favor  of  mild.  Givens  evidently  belonged  to  the  student 
faction  that  was  favorable  to  the  professors  and  was  getting  in  his 
"lick"  at  the  president. 

Now  followed  one  of  the  most  remarkable  proceedings  to  be 
found  in  the  whole  range  of  modern  college  annals.  It  was  neither 
more  nor  less  than  an  appeal  of  the  case  by  the  faculty  to  the  stu- 
dents. Both  McPheeters  and  Bollman,  as  students  "trained" 
in  opposite  factions,  always  represented  that  the  faculty  submitted 
the  case  to  the  students  by  agreement ;  and  Campbell  writes  of  it  as 
an  "open  appeal  by  the  faculty  to  the  students".  On  the  contrary, 
Hall  writes  that  both  himself  and  Harney  were  greatly  surprised 
when,  on  what  was  long  known  as  "the  celebrated  Saturday",  Dr. 
Wylie  brought  the  matter  to  the  attention  of  the  students;  and  while 
the  case  was,  in  a  sense,  appealed  to  the  students,  I  cannot  believe, 
in  the  absence  of  the  actual  statement  of  someone  present  in  faculty 
meeting,  that  such  an  appeal  was  the  result  of  an  agreement  made 
beforehand. 


84  Indiana  University 

But  we  are  not  entirely  left  in  the  dark  as  to  the  Doctor's  motives 
and  purpose.  According  to  Dr.  Elliott,  Dr.  Wylie  proposed  some 
measure  affecting  the  College  government — he  does  not  state  what, 
but  it  was  probably  the  expulsion  of  Givens — "which  was  openly 
opposed  by  the  professors  and  their  party",  their  party  consisting  of 
all  citizens  and  students  who  sided  with  them.  "Anxious  to  en- 
lighten the  community  and  the  students,  he  was  discussing  it  in  the 
chapel",  when  the  circumstances  as  hereinafter  stated  took  place. 

Be  all  this  as  it  may,  sometime  between  the  day  of  the  spring  ex- 
hibition and  July  16,  1832,  came  "the  celebrated  Saturday". 

Mr.  Bollman — who  came  to  Bloomington  from  Pennsylvania 
with  Dr.  Wylie  and  took  his  course  in  the  College,  and  was  ever  Dr. 
Wylie's  fast  friend  and  not  the  friend  of  Professor  Hall,  for  he  spoke 
bitterly  of  the  latter  to  the  very  last — said  on  one  occasion  that  on 
the  morning  of  "the  celebrated  Saturday",  he  was  sent  for  by  the 
president  to  meet  him  at  his  house  before  the  ringing  of  the  bell ; 
that  he  did  so,  and  there  met  a  number  of  other  students.  The 
ringing  of  the  bell  was  begun  about  the  time  he  got  there,  and  before 
or  at  its  close  Dr.  Wylie  said,  "Well,  it  is  time  we  go  to  College." 

Hall  makes  the  charge  in  his  book  that  the  president  came  to 
chapel  that  morning  with  a  "bodyguard",  and  Bollman  understood 
that  he  and  others  had  been  invited  to  assemble  for  some  such 
purpose.  The  evidence  is  conclusive  that  both  sides  met  that  morn- 
ing in  the  belief  that  something  unusual  was  about  to  take  place ;  and 
the  inference  is  very  strong  that  shortly  before  that  the  feelings  of 
both  Wylie  and  Harney  had  been  wrought  up  to  the  highest  point 
of  malignancy  toward  each  other. 

As  to  the  cause  for  the  particular  enmity  now  existing  between 
these  two,  I  am  not  certain.  Harney  had  from  the  beginning  of  the 
quarrel  espoused  Hall's  side;  and  now  that  Hall's  days  as  a  professor 
were  numbered,  it  may  be  that  Wylie  and  Harney  had  mutually 
entered  the  lists  for  a  death  struggle.  In  The  New  Purchase  it  is 
stated  that  the  president  on  his  own  motion  expelled  Givens,  but 
that  Harney  advised  the  student  to  disregard  the  president's  act 
on  the  ground  that  the  faculty  alone  could  expel,  not  a  member  of  the 
faculty.  Be  this  as  it  may,  on  assembling  that  Saturday  morning 
the  faculty  took  their  places  on  the  rostrum,  the  president  in  the 
middle  and  a  professor  on  each  side  as  usual.  The  president  read  a 
chapter  and  offered  the  usual  morning  prayer,  after  which  the  unusu- 
al scene  began. 

It  began  by  the  president  making  a  speech.  Two  versions  of  that 
speech  are  before  me.  One  is  the  New  Purchase  version,  which  is  too 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  85 

extravagant  for  credence.  The  other  is  Matthew  M.  Campbell's  ver- 
sion. After  the  lapse  of  fifty  years,  he  undertook,  as  he  says,  "to 
give  something  like  it".  In  one  thing  both  agree — the  president 
assailed  Professor  Harney.  The  New  Purchase  statement  is  that  he 
charged  him,  by  innuendo,  with  spitting  in  his  face,  but  from  no 
other  source  comes  even  a  hint  of  this,  and  so  we  discard  it  entirely. 
Whatever  ground  that  speech  may  have  covered,  of  this  we  may  feel 
assured,  Dr.  Wylie  did  not  spare  his  enemies — the  professors.  Dur- 
ing its  delivery  we  may  well  suppose  that,  as  Hall  says,  the  "pro- 
fessors sat  as  in  a  dream".  Presently  the  one  thing  occurred  which 
everyone  present  no  doubt  remembered  to  the  day  of  his  death. 
Harney  was  sitting  with  a  pen-knife  in  his  hand — a  "little  pen-knife" 
said  McPheeters ;  an  "old  pocket-knife"  with  a  "round-ended 
blade",  says  The  New  Purchase;"a  new  knife  with  a  very  glittering 
blade",  says  Dr.  Elliott,  who  got  his  information  from  Dr.  Wylie; 
and  simply  a  "pen-knife"  says  Campbell.  He  was  "whittling  a 
stick  as  was  his  custom",  says  McPheeters;  "he  was  opening  and 
shutting  it  just  that  its  click,  as  I  think,  might  somewhat  divert 
his  own  riveted  attention",  says  Campbell;  "he  was  snapping  it 
open  and  shut",  says  Dr.  Elliott;  "as  was  his  habit,  when  having 
nothing  to  do,  he  began  strapping  a  round-ended  blade  of  an  old 
pocket-knife  on  his  boot — said  boot  tastefully  reposing  on  the 
knee  of  the  other  leg",  reads  The  New  Purchase. 

Here  you  see  is  a  disagreement  among  the  witnesses,  but  it  is  as 
to  a  minor  matter.  As  to  the  essential  facts  that  there  was  a  knife 
displayed  by  Harney,  and  that  it  was  not  a  deadly  weapon,  there  is 
entire  agreement. 

But  the  president  saw  that  knife,  and  actually  fearing  or  feigning 
to  fear  an  evil  intention  on  the  part  of  Harney,  he  exclaimed  against 
it.  "What!  Does  he  mean  to  stab  me  in  the  back  while  I  explain 
to  you  his  late  conduct  with  me?"  is  Campbell's  statement;  while 
McPheeters'  is,  "I  see  a  knife  behind  me  here,  but  I  hope  it  is  for 
no  evil  purpose!" 

A  commotion  followed.  Harney  sprang  to  his  feet,  but  Hall 
seizing  him  by  the  skirt  of  his  coat  pulled  him  back  into  his  seat,  at 
the  same  time  telling  him  he  would  speak  in  answer.  The  president 
went  on  with  his  speech  and  no  quarreling,  as  such,  ensued.  Camp- 
bell even  thinks  there  was  no  great  excitement  evinced  by  the  stu- 
dents. Doubtless  they  kept  their  seats  and  certainly  they  did  not 
applaud. 

When  the  president  was  thru,  Hall  arose  and  began  his  answer. 
What  he  said  no  one  has  assumed  to  repeat,  but  there  is  evidence 


86  Indiana  University 

that  he  began  the  making  of  a  very  exasperating  speech.  Mc- 
Pheeters  says  that  Hall  "was  a  brilliant  orator  and  in  the  language 
of  the  boys  he  'ripped  the  Doctor  up  the  back'  ".  At  any  rate,  his 
words  greatly  enraged  the  president,  who  called  upon  him  to  curb 
the  temper  of  his  speech  or  he  would  dismiss  the  College.  But 
Hall,  paying  no  attention  to  the  threat,  kept  right  on,  when  Wylie, 
advancing  to  the  front,  cried:  "College  is  dismissed.  My  friends 
will  follow  me!" 

With  that  there  seems  to  have  been  a  rush  for  the  door,  and  when 
outside,  the  president's  friends  followed  him,  and  the  professors' 
them.  Some  who  held  aloof  from  either  faction,  lolling  on  the  grass 
in  the  shade,  talked  the  extraordinary  occurrence  over. 

This  is  the  story  of  "the  celebrated  Saturday",  as  I  have  been 
enabled  to  weave  it  out  of  the  tangled  skeins  that  have  come  dow  n  to 
our  time.  In  The  New  Purchase,  Harney  is  represented  as  denying  in 
the  most  positive  of  terms  any  wrong  purpose  with  reference  to  his 
knife,  and  I  have  no  doubt  he  did  so,  for  it  was  most  natural  he 
should ;  yet  while  everyone  whose  statement  regarding  the  matter  I 
have  taken  hastens  to  acquit  Harney  on  that  score,  not  one  remem- 
bers him  as  saying  a  word  at  the  time. 

Events  now  followed  in  quick  succession.  On  July  16  we  find  the 
board  convened  in  extraordinary  session.  Professor  Hall,  as 
we  have  seen,  had  already  resigned  but  was  teaching  under  a  special 
agreement.  He  no  longer  appears  as  an  actor  in  these  disgraceful 
scenes.  Henceforth  the  battle  was  waged  between  the  president  and 
the  mathematics  professor.  Each  went  before  the  board,  and  each 
presented  his  side  of  the  case  and  demanded  an  investigation. 

What  was  the  board  to  do?  There  was  no  precedent.  The  like 
had  never  been  known  before.  For  three  days  the  board  doubted, 
and  on  the  third  it  straddled.  By  resolution  it  declared  that  the 
"conduct  of  each  member  of  the  faculty  has  not  been  free  from  cen- 
sure", and  wound  up  by  recommending  the  members  "to  make  every 
consistent  effort  to  arrive  at  perfect  harmony  among  themselves"; 
and  then  the  trustees  adjourned  and  went  to  their  homes. 

The  advice  was  good,  very  good;  but  the  time  for  advice  was 
passed.  What  the  parties  wanted  was  a  trial ;  what  the  board  could 
not  afford  to  give  was  a  trial.  There  is  but  one  step  that  can  be 
taken  with  absolute  safety  to  an  institution  in  such  an  emergency, 
and  that  is  to  cut  off  somebody.  No  management  can  with  safety 
to  its  college  sit  as  a  tribunal  to  condemn  or  to  vindicate  its  quarrel- 
ing professors.  Other  tribunals,  lay  and  ecclesiastical,  have  been 
specially  ordained  for  that  purpose. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  87 

Certainly  no  darker  hour  was  ever  struck  in  the  history  of  our 
beloved  institution.  The  factional  differences  between  the  students 
had  become  so  intensified  as  alone  to  be  a  sufficient  cause  from 
which  to  apprehend  a  disruption.  Hall,  it  is  true,  says  the  students 
"generally  remained  neutral",  but  he  charges  that  all  the  "flourish- 
ing ornamental  trees  set  out  by  him  years  before"  were  girdled; 
that  the  beautiful  woodbines  shading  his  doors  and  windows  were 
cut  down,  and  that  the  swine  were  turned  into  his  kitchen  garden — 
all  of  which  he  lays  to  the  door  of  the  adverse  student  faction. 

That  the  students  were  wrought  to  a  high  pitch  of  excitement 
cannot  be  doubted;  for  when  the  time  came,  as  it  shortly  did,  that 
the  professors  had  to  go,  the  number  of  students  that  turned  their 
backs  upon  Indiana  College  was  so  great  that  Dr.  Maxwell,  the 
president  of  the  Board  of  Trustees,  in  his  next  annual  report  to  the 
legislature,  felt  it  his  duty  to  call  attention  to  the  fact. 

In  addition  to  these  agencies  of  disturbance,  we  must  not  over- 
look the  fact  that  the  people  of  Bloomington  took  sides  and  helped 
carry  on  the  war.  Fortunately,  however,  with  them  there  was 
division — a  division  which  goes  far  towards  sustaining  that  deliv- 
erance of  the  board  that  the  "conduct  of  each  member  of  the  faculty 
has  not  been  free  from  censure' ' .  To  such  a  pitch  was  the  contention 
carried  among  the  citizens  of  the  town  that,  according  to  Dr.  Elliott, 
who  succeeded  Professor  Harney  in  the  chair  of  mathematics, 
the  social  life  of  the  people  for  the  time  being  was  made  to  hinge 
upon  the  faculty  controversy.  The  friends  of  the  one  side  held  no 
social  intercourse  with  the  friends  of  the  other  side.  The  social 
parties  were  either  Wylie  parties  or  Hall  and  Harney  parties. 

And  yet,  to  the  credit  of  president  and  professors  be  it  said,  that 
after  the  board  had  given  its  bit  of  good  advice  and  gone  home,  the 
College  work  went  on  as  if  all  were  peace  and  harmony  in  that  little 
College  world.  Commencement  day  came  on  the  last  Wednesday  in 
September  of  that  year,  and  until  that  time  president  and  professors 
met  in  the  chapel  each  morning,  when  there  was  reading  of  the  Scrip- 
tures and  prayer,  after  which  followed  lectures  and  recitations — all 
as  of  old.  Everything  was  done  in  decency  and  in  order,  and  a 
stranger  would  never  have  dreamed  of  the  tempests  of  ill-feeling 
raging  beneath  the  surface. 

It  is  quite  evident,  however,  that  the  disagreeing  faculty  were  not 
taking  the  good  advice  of  the  board.  They  never  do  in  such  cases. 
Out  of  doors  all  was  discord  and  confusion.  Sometime  during  the  in- 
terval between  the  July  meeting  and  the  September  commencement, 
the  president  and  the  mathematics  professor  had  a  personal  collision, 


88  Indiana  University 

but  the  event  had  more  of  the  farcical  than  the  tragical  in  it.  The 
story  is  about  as  follows :  That  stream  which  crosses  the  city  school 
lot  and  is  so  nicely  concealed  beneath  College  avenue  by  an  arch  of 
masonry  was  at  the  time  in  question  an  open  stream  from  street 
boundary  to  street  boundary,  save  that  it  was  spanned  on  the  west 
side  by  a  foot-log.  One  Sunday  morning  the  president  and  the  pro- 
fessor met  at  that  foot-log.  The  president  fancied,  and  doubtless 
his  fancy  was  the  fact,  that  the  professor  was  measuring  his  steps  so 
that  the  meeting  should  take  place  midway  of  that  log,  and  if  the 
truth  were  known,  it  would  doubtless  appear  that  the  president  was 
not  just  then  caring  whether  the  inevitable  meeting  took  place  on  the 
log  or  off  it.  At  any  rate  it  is  certain  that  he  did  not  change  his  gait. 
He  left  it  to  the  mathematics  professor  to  do  the  necessary  fast 
walking  and  slow  walking,  in  order  to  bring  about  the  meeting  in  the 
most  desirable  place.  And  the  mathematics  professor  was  a  very 
capable  and  practical  mathematician,  and  he  so  managed  it  that 
each  stepped  upon  his  end  of  the  log  at  the  same  time.  But  the 
president  had  been  thinking  as  well  as  the  professor.  "I  made  up 
my  mind",  said  he  sometime  afterward  to  our  Dr.  Wylie  (Professor 
Theophilus  A.  Wylie),  "that  I  would  push  him  off  if  I  could"; and 
it  was  characteristic  of  the  old  Doctor  that  when  he  once  made  up 
his  mind  to  do  a  given  thing,  he  was  very  apt  to  do  it.  At  any 
rate  the  parties  met  in  the  middle  of  the  log,  as  the  mathematics 
man  had  calculated  they  would;  and  "just  as  we  came  together", 
said  the  old  Doctor  to  the  young  Doctor,  "I  drew  my  arms  close 
around  me  and  gave  him  a  hunch  with  one  shoulder,  and  off  he  went 
sprawling". 

Had  the  mathematics  man  seized  his  antagonist  by  the  leg  and 
dragged  him  down  into  the  mud  and  mire,  we  might  have  had  more 
respect  for  him! 

Commencement  fell  this  year  on  the  last  Wednesday  in  Septem- 
ber. There  were  two  terms  a  year,  of  five  months  each,  with  two 
vacations  of  a  month  each,  one  covering  the  month  of  October  and 
the  other  the  month  of  April.  From  the  beginning  up  to  this  year 
of  1832,  the  collegiate  years  closed  in  the  last  of  October,  and  the 
vacation  months  were  November  and  May. 

Whether  the  trustees  were  astonished  at  the  continued  hostility 
of  the  main  actors  in  this  drama,  on  their  assembling  at  the  Septem- 
ber commencement,  is  nowhere  stated.  We  learn  from  Dr.  Max- 
well's report  to  the  General  Assembly  that  Hall  had  withdrawn  two 
weeks  before  commencement,  but  no  reason  for  this  is  given.  We 
can  only  suppose  that  the  position  he  occupied  had  become  so  in- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  89 

tolerable  to  him  that  he  sought  relief  by  abandoning  the  field.  He 
was  a  man  of  peace,  who  took  no  pleasure  in  war. 

Another  effort  was  made  to  effect  a  reconciliation  between  Wylie 
and  Harney,  but  with  no  better  effect  than  the  one  of  six  weeks 
before.  What  would  the  trustees  now  do?  The  entries  in  the  old 
record  are  in  general  brief  and  often  unsatisfactory.  Enough, 
however,  was  written  to  show  the  great  strait  in  which  the  trustees 
now  found  themselves.  They  were  evidently  doubting.  In  July 
they  had  declared  both  parties  in  the  wrong;  and  as  nothing  had 
taken  place  to  warrant  a  reversal  of  that  opinion  they  must  have 
still  considered  both  parties  in  the  wrong.  This  is  evident,  or  else 
they  would  not  have  again  counseled  a  compromise. 

Again,  professors  were  harder  to  come  at  in  those  days  than  they 
are  now.  Let  one  drop  out  today,  and  tomorrow  twenty  will  be 
found  ready  to  take  his  place.  Jt  was  otherwise  sixty  years  ago. 
Men  competent  to  fill  presidents'  chairs,  and  to  teach  Greek  and 
Latin  and  the  higher  mathematics,  generally  lived  on  the  other  side 
of  the  Alleghanies.  If  either  Wylie  or  Harney  went,  who  could  be 
found  to  supply  his  place?  Hall  was  already  out,  and  a  Greek  and 
Latin  man  had  to  be  found;  and  the  board  shrank  from  the  task  of 
finding  still  another.  One  at  a  time  was  enough.  Moreover,  as 
neither  the  president  nor  the  professor  would  resign,  and  the  board 
had  declared  both  in  fault,  how  could  one  be  taken  and  the  other 
left? 

To  this,  add  the  clamor  from  the  outside.  The  president  had  his 
friends,  and  the  professor  his.  The  town  was  in  a  tumult.  Every- 
where was  confusion.  When  the  pinch  finally  came,  the  trustees 
themselves  could  not  agree.  Tradition  says  that  scarce  two  thought 
alike.  The  matter  was  talked  over  and  over,  and  proposition  after 
proposition  was  made,  but  nothing  could  be  agreed  upon.  At  last 
the  keynote  was  struck  by  the  humblest  member  of  the  board.  He 
is  represented  as  saying: 

I  am  not  a  lawyer,  nor  a  doctor,  nor  a  preacher,  and  I  know  next  to 
nothing  about  public  business ;  but  if  I  had  two  good  hands  employed  on 
my  farm  and  they  should  quarrel  and  fight,  I  would  do  my  best  to 
have  them  make  it  up;  but  if  after  a  fair  trial  I  found  they  would 
not  have  peace,  I  would  consider  which  one  I  could  get  on  the  better 
without,  and  would  dismiss  him  at  once. 

And  Harney  was  dismissed. 

The  black  cloud  which  uprose  with  the  beginning  of  this  faculty 
fight  now  hung  like  a  pall  over  what  many  thought  was  a  dead 
College.  No  other  calamity,  whether  from  fire,  or  adverse  litigation, 


90  Indiana  University 

or  political  or  sectarian  ascendancy,  or  what  not,  ever  proved  so 
great  a  calamity  to  the  institution  as  did  this  wretched  personal 
difficulty.  It  had  done  more  in  the  short  space  of  twelve  months  to 
chill  the  ardor  of  state  effort  in  the  cause  of  collegiate  education  than 
all  the  assaults  by  politicians  or  sectaries  from  the  outside  were  ever 
able  to  accomplish.  The  unseemly  and  disgraceful  squabble  was 
carried  on,  in  spite  of  official  admonition,  until  it  became  a  state 
scandal,  and  until  it  put  an  effectual  end,  during  that  generation  at 
least,  to  any  thought  of  state  aid  to  the  Indiana  College.  I  think  it 
safe  to  say  that  never  at  any  time  since  the  culmination  of  that 
petty  quarrel  has  the  institution  had  as  many  active  and  cooperating 
friends  thruout  the  state,  in  proportion  to  the  whole  number  of 
people,  as  it  had  before.  Up  to  that  time  it  had  been  the  hope  of 
Dr.  Maxwell  and  other  far-seeing  men,  that  the  Indiana  College 
should  be  to  Indiana  what  the  Michigan  University  has  since 
become  to  Michigan ;  but  it  was  soon  seen,  after  the  close  of  that  de- 
plorable dispute,  that  whatever  the  future  might  have  in  store  for  the 
scion  of  their  planting,  that  hope  could  not  become  a  reality  during 
their  generation. 

I  realized  in  the  outset  the  gravity  of  the  task  I  had  undertaken. 
We  are  not  so  far  from  the  actors  and  their  times  that  a  matter  of 
such  a  personal  nature  as  the  one  presented  can  be  probed  without 
danger  of  hurting  somebody. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  matter  presented  in  this  paper  is  but  an 
episode  that  ought  to  be  forgotten.  But  history  is  largely  made  up  of 
episodes,  and  especially  is  this  true  of  the  history  of  our  institution. 
And  it  is  true,  moreover,  that  every  single  episode  has  in  its  composi- 
tion more  or  less  of  the  unpleasant  because  of  personal  matters; 
and  so  if  we  were  to  leave  all  out  that  is  unpleasant,  we  would  have 
left  very  little  that  would  be  worth  recording  as  history. 

I  have  not  felt  that  it  was  any  part  of  my  duty  to  find  which  side 
took  the  initiatory  wrong  step,  nor  which  went  to  the  greater  length 
in  the  wrong.  A  review  of  the  evidence  at  hand  warrants  me  in 
believing,  as  the  Board  of  Trustees  believed  at  the  time,  that  neither 
side  was  without  fault.  As  to  the  relative  degrees  of  wrong  the 
board  expressed  no  opinion,  and  neither  do  I. 

But  looking  beyond  all  that — whether  Dr.  Wylie  was  to  blame  or 
not  to  blame;  whether  Hall  and  Harney,  or  Hall  or  Harney,  were  to 
blame  or  not  to  blame — one  fact  stares  us  in  the  face,  and  that  is 
that  their  personal  controversy  worked  a  grievous  wrong  to  the 
institution. 

In  everything  a  man  does,  he  may  be  said  to  appeal  to  history 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  91 

and  certainly  this  is  true  of  every  man  who  engenders  or  wages  a 
faculty  war.  It  is  a  war  out  of  which  no  soldier  ever  comes  unhurt, 
and  for  which  hurt  no  soldier  ever  receives  a  pension. 

The  board  proceeded  at  once  to  the  reorganization  of  the  faculty 
by  the  election  of  Beaumont  Parks,  who  was  at  the  time  at  the  head 
of  a  classical  school  in  Madison,  in  this  state,  to  the  chair  of  lan- 
guages; and  Ebenezer  N.  Elliott,  who  was  at  the  head  of  a  similar 
school  at  Rising  Sun  on  the  same  side  of  the  river,  to  the  chair 
vacated  by  Professor  Harney.  And  then  the  board  adjourned,  in 
the  belief  that  the  College  was  dead.  Nor  did  it  again  meet  for  two 
years.  That  was  the  period  known  as  the  interregnum. 

V.  FROM  COLLEGE  TO  UNIVERSITY  (1833-381) 

THE  STORY  of  the  Indiana  College  as  thus  far  told  on  Foundation 
Days  has  been  brought  down  to  the  close  of  the  "faculty  war"  in 
1832.  It  begins  today  with  the  reorganization  of  the  faculty. 

Dr.  Wylie  was  continued  as  president  at  a  salary  of  $1,300,  and 
Beaumont  Parks  was  elected  to  the  chair  of  languages  and  Ebenezer 
N.  Elliott  to  that  of  mathematics  and  natural  philosophy,  each  at 
$750  per  year.  Both  were  taken  from  Indiana  schools,  Parks  from 
the  head  of  a  classical  school  at  Madison  and  Elliott  from  the  head 
of  a  like  school  at  Aurora.  The  former  was  Connecticut  born,  and 
was  educated  at  Dartmouth;  the  latter  was  a  South  Carolinian, 
but  came  to  the  Kentucky  side  of  the  Ohio  valley  in  boyhood  and 
was  educated  at  the  Miami  University. 

The  Greek  and  Latin  professor  is  remembered  as  much  for  his 
eccentricities  as  for  his  learning.  He  was  seldom  or  never  without 
his  "quid  in  his  mouth  and  was  always  begging  for  tobacco".  He 
did  all  sorts  of  unexpected  and  astounding  things.  In  the  middle  of  a 
recitation,  without  a  word  of  warning,  he  would  spring  to  his  feet 
with  the  announcement  that  he  must  go  home  and  kill  a  chicken  for 
dinner ;  and  off  he  would  go,  not  to  return  till  the  next  day.  Happily 
the  tribe  of  eccentrics  has  about  disappeared  from  the  western  col- 
leges— a  fact  that  would  seem  to  indicate  that  there  must  have  been 
a  deal  of  simulated  eccentricity  among  the  college  men  of  old. 

Professor  Elliott  moved  in  the  usual  orbit,  except  that  he  was 
endowed  with  an  inordinate  egotism.  He  still  survives,  or  did  a  few 
months  ago;  and  I  think  you  will  agree  with  me,  when  you  have 
heard  his  own  account  of  some  of  his  achievements  while  a  professor 

^Delivered  in  the  Presbyterian  Church,  Bloomington,  Indiana,  at  the  annual  Foundation  Day 
exercises  held  January  20,  1893. 


92  Indiana  University 

in  the  Indiana  College,  that  he  is  in  his  old  age — whatever  he  may 
have  been  when  a  younger  man — most  delightfully  self-conscious  of 
the  importance  of  his  own  acts. 

Thus  far  the  history  of  the  institution  had  had  in  it  more  of  dis- 
appointment and  failure  than  of  success  and  triumph.  Nevertheless, 
it  had  met  with  its  successes;  and  in  spite  of  all  its  drawbacks,  past 
and  to  come,  it  was  destined  in  a  very  few  years  to  attract  the 
general  attention  of  the  country  and  draw  students  to  its  classes 
from  all  over  the  West  and  South. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  new  faculty  entered  upon  their 
duties  in  the  belief  that  the  evil  days  were  past  and  that  there  was 
to  be  no  more  war.  Too  many  battlefields  were  still  in  sight,  and 
too  many  old  soldiers  who  had  fought  for  or  against  the  College  on 
these  fields  survived,  for  that.  A  generation — yes,  two  generations — 
must  step  down  and  out  before  there  could  be  a  perfect  peace.  The 
old  politicians  and  the  old  ecclesiastics  must  all  give  place  to  the 
new  before  the  Indiana  College  battles  were  to  be  no  more.  Still,  it  is 
a  reasonable  conclusion  that  the  "faculty  fight",  which  was  the 
theme  of  the  last  Foundation  Day's  paper,  was  not  an  unmitigated 
evil.  It  had  its  one  compensation  at  least,  for  while  the  internecine 
strife  went  on  the  foreign  enemy  stood  aloof  observing  the  strictest 
neutrality.  After  the  domestic  broil  was  over  the  attacks  from  the 
outside  came  with  such  lessened  vigor  as  to  indicate  a  permanent 
weakening  in  the  ranks  of  the  enemy.  Battles  were  still  to  be  fought 
in  defense  of  the  State  College,  but  the  issue  was  never  again  to  be 
so  doubtful  as  it  had  been  in  the  past. 

When  the  new  professors  came,  in  the  fall  of  1832,  they  found  the 
people  of  Bloomington  in  a  state  of  angry  discontent.  They  had 
very  generally  taken  sides  in  the  faculty  controversy,  and  altho  Hall 
and  Harney  were  gone,  leaving  Dr.  Wylie  as  the  only  one  of  the 
original  combatants  to  occupy  the  field,  the  two  factions  were  not 
ready  to  cease  the  warfare.  The  population  of  the  town  did  not 
exceed  six  hundred;  but  six  hundred  soldiers,  it  must  be  conceded, 
can  fight  a  stout  battle.  Theirs,  it  must  be  remembered,  was  a  very 
combative  age.  Everybody  in  those  days  was  ready  to  fight  with 
tongue,  pen,  fist,  or  sword,  on  the  slightest  provocation.  If  you  will 
take  the  pains  to  examine  the  old  court  dockets  of  any  of  our 
counties,  you  can  see  from  the  great  plenty  of  slander  cases  and 
assault  and  battery  cases  how  very  pugnacious  the  Indiana  people 
were. 

The  people  of  Bloomington  were  no  worse  and  no  better  than 
were  their  neighbors  in  this  respect.  When  the  faculty  contest 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  93 

began,  they  joined  in  with  a  will.  But  when  the  principals  in  that 
unhappy  affair  ceased  their  strivings,  their  valorous  adherents  were 
hardly  ready  to  cease  theirs ;  and  so  the  warfare  continued,  between 
the  Hall  and  Harney  faction  on  the  one  side,  and  the  Wylie  faction 
on  the  other. 

The  people  of  Bloomington  were  a  social  people  in  those  days, 
and  in  this  way  they  were  much  like  their  neighbors,  for  sociability 
was  a  characteristic  of  the  times.  The  people  of  the  towns  were 
much  in  the  habit  of  meeting  around  the  hearthstone  and  of  eating 
and  drinking  and  making  merry.  But  here  in  Bloomington  the 
suppers  were  Hall  and  Harney  suppers,  or  else  Wylie  suppers.  An 
adherent  of  one  faction  was  seldom  or  never  a  guest  with  the  other. 
Indeed,  Professor  Elliott  says  in  so  many  words  that,  when  he  ar- 
rived, so  bitter  was  the  feeling  between  the  two  factions,  "no  in- 
dividual of  the  one  party  visited ,  or  even  spoke  to  one  of  the  other 
party". 

This  state  of  affairs  must  have  been  intolerable  to  the  new  pro- 
fessors ;  and  one  of  them  at  least,  according  to  his  charmingly  gossipy 
story,  determined  to  put  an  end  to  this  social  thralldom  for  his  own 
and  his  family's  benefit,  as  well  as  for  the  benefit  of  the  College. 
He  exclaims: 

Fortunate  it  was  for  me  and  for  the  College,  that  my  wife,  whom  I  had  just  married, 
had  been  reared  in  the  best  society  of  Kentucky,  and  that  Bloomington  was  some- 
what numerously  settled  by  Kentuckians,  and  that  Noah  Noble,  the  governor 
of  the  state,  was  a  Kentuckian  and  a  neighbor  and  a  playmate  in  childhood  of 
my  wife's.  This  gave  us  an  entree  to  all  the  society  v/hich  Bloomington  could 
boast.  A  succession  of  entertainments  followed  [his  coming,  which  was  just 
sixty  years  ago  the  fourteenth  of  last  month]  and  many  shrewd  speculations  were 
indulged  in  as  to  which  party  the  new  professors  and  their  families  would  attach 
themselves  to.  I  had  brought  out  with  me  two  young  ladies,  nieces  of  my  wife. 

The  townspeople  representing  both  factions  had  done  the  handsome 
thing  by  the  new  members  of  the  faculty,  and  it  now  became  their 
duty  to  pay  their  debts.  "Mrs.  Wylie",  continues  the  chronicler, 
"led  off  by  inviting  the  Doctor's  friends  only.  Mrs.  Professor  Parks 
followed  by  inviting  the  same,  and  both  entirely  ignored  his  en- 
mies." 

It  was  now  the  turn  of  the  mathematics  professor  and  his  wife, 
and  there  was  much  discussion  between  the  two.  After  the  lapse  of 
sixty  years  the  matter  seems  trivial  enough  to  us,  but  as  a  result  of 
that  discussion  it  was  determined,  writes  our  chronicler,  "to  ignore 
both  parties  and  invite  all,  and  make  the  resuscitation  of  the  College 
the  paramount  object".  And  so  all  were  invited — Hall  and  Harney 


94  Indiana  University 

retainers  and  Wylie  retainers — and  all  came ;  so  that  the  mathema- 
tician's parlor  (to  use  his  own  language)  was  "crowded  by  both 
parties,  but  on  opposite  sides  of  the  room,  glaring  at  each  other  and 
wondering  what  next". 

Well,  what  next?  Let  us  have  the  story  to  the  end  without 
break  or  comment. 

My  wife  had  marshaled  her  forces,  her  two  attractive  young  ladies,  her  nieces, 
some  Kentucky  students,  and  as  auxiliaries  her  Kentucky  friends  in  town.  The 
object  was  to  mingle  the  heterogeneous  factions  and  transform  them  into  a  homo- 
geneous whole.  Much  as  I  had  admired  her  before  [they  had  recently  been 
married],  she  that  night  excelled  in  entertaining  anything  I  had  thought  possible. 
She  and  the  young  ladies  were  everywhere;  she  had  a  word  or  a  repartee  for  each 
one;  and  she  so  managed  that,  by  the  time  supper  was  announced,  her  guests 
were  pretty  thoroughly  mixed.  These  tactics  were  followed  up  by  a  judicious 
round  of  visits  and  invitations  to  call.  This  was  the  deathblow  to  partyism;  and 
from  that  time  the  institution  started  on  a  new  career  of  prosperity,  so  that  when 
our  trustees  returned,  after  a  two  years'  absence,  they  found  the  College,  to  which 
they  had  as  they  thought  bidden  an  eternal  farewell,  flourishing,  the  new  building 
finished,  the  chapel  complete  with  rostrum  and  orchestra,  a  fine  brass  band,  two 
society  halls,  and  (best  of  all)  a  large  increase  of  students. 

As  a  bit  of  local  coloring  the  story  as  told  by  Professor  Elliot  * 
could  not  be  overlooked,  but  the  results  of  his  and  his  worthy  wife's 
diplomacy  were  hardly  as  great  as  he  would  have  us  believe.  The 
finished  building,  the  completed  chapel  and  rostrum  and  orchestra, 
and  the  brass  band  and  society  halls  and  increase  of  students,  were 
due  to  causes  other  than  that  supper.  In  a  word,  the  supper  did 
not  save  the  College ;  nevertheless  the  social  life  of  Bloomington,  and 
of  all  those  connected  with  the  College,  too,  for  that  matter,  was  no 
doubt  greatly  benefited  by  it.  It  was  the  beginning  of  better 
things,  and  by  reason  thereof  deserves  to  be  remembered.  Still, 
the  revolution  it  set  in  motion  was  not  instantaneous,  for  as  late  as 
1838  the  Hall  and  Harney  and  the  Wylie  factions  were  still  making 
themselves  felt  as  factions  in  the  social  life  of  Bloomington. 

Let  us  turn  now  to  matters  of  a  graver  nature. 

The  year  after  this  institution  had  been  made  a  possibility  by  the 
constitution  of  the  new  state  of  Indiana,  a  new  disease  which  was  in 
a  very  few  years  to  prove  a  scourge  to  mankind  the  world  over  began 
to  attract  the  attention  of  the  medical  profession  of  the  civilized 
world.  The  year  after  the  institution  passed  by  legislative  enact- 
ment from  the  Indiana  Seminary  into  the  Indiana  College,  that  fell 
disease  passed  beyond  the  confines  of  its  Asiatic  home  and  entered 
Europe.  The  next  year  (1831)  it  touched  the  coast  of  England,  and 
on  June  9,  1832,  cholera  for  the  first  time  found  a  foothold  in  the 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  95 

New  World.  This  was  at  Quebec ;  and  in  thirty  days  it  was  claiming 
its  victims  in  Chicago!  On  June  24  it  broke  out  in  New  York, 
whence  it  swept  like  an  ocean  storm  to  Philadelphia,  Washington, 
Baltimore,  and  to  other  towns  on  the  Atlantic  side  of  the  Alleg- 
hanies.  In  September  it  runs  like  lightning  up  and  down  the 
Ohio.  Cincinnati,  Lawrenceburg,  Madison,  Louisville,  Evansville — 
all  are  stricken,  and  the  mortality  is  great  and  men  fear  and  tremble. 

As  the  cry  of  anguish  goes  up  from  the  people  of  the  river  towns, 
"See!"  exclaim  they  of  the  interior  places,  "it  clings  to  the  water- 
ways!" and  they  regain  their  courage. 

With  the  coming  of  the  October  frosts  the  scourge  suddenly  dis- 
appeared, and  it  was  devoutly  hoped  that  it  would  never  return.  In 
the  long  winter  evenings  that  followed,  the  people  around  their  fire- 
sides recalled  the  horrors  of  the  visitation  and  the  striking  incidents 
of  its  year.  Not  the  least  of  these  was  the  fact  that  the  winter 
of  1831-32  was  the  coldest  that  the  people  of  Indiana  had  ever 
known;  that  the  following  spring  was  extremely  cold  and  backward, 
and  the  summer  noted  for  the  absence  of  sultry  weather.  There 
are  those  yet  living  who  remember  the  extraordinary  fact  that  in 
the  harvest  field  that  year  laborers  were  compelled  to  keep  in  motion 
to  keep  comfortably  warm. 

And  it  is  moreover  on  record,  that  the  floods  in  the  Ohio  valley 
reached  a  higher  level  that  spring  than  had  ever  before  been  known — 
higher  by  eight  feet  than  the  great  flood  of  1826,  and  higher  by 
nearly  six  feet  than  the  still  greater  of  1815. 

As  the  people  sat  around  their  firesides  of  the  long  winter  even- 
ings and  talked  of  frost  and  flood,  of  summer  cold  and  stalking 
cholera,  they  wrapped  themselves  in  the  mantle  of  their  own  fears 
and  waited  forebodingly  for  the  worst.  And  the  worst  for  Indiana 
was  yet  to  come. 

On  April  27,  1833,  the  Indianapolis  papers  announce  that  the 
"frightful  disease"  has  again  made  its  appearance  in  Cincinnati. 

Once  more  does  this  pestilence  stalk  at  noonday  up  and  down  the 
Ohio,  smiting  with  death  the  inhabitants  as  it  goes.  It  menaces  the 
interior  places  as  it  had  not  done  before,  and  finally  leaving  the 
river  basin  it  flies  like  a  destroying  angel  southward,  thru  the  blue- 
grass  towns  and  on  down  into  the  Tennessee  country. 

All  this  was  going  on  in  May  and  June,  and  toward  the  last  of  the 
latter  month  the  alarm  began  to  spread  to  the  Indiana  towns;  and 
well  it  might,  for  they  in  general  were  as  void  of  sanitary  regulations 
as  were  the  Potawatomi  villages  on  the  border. 

In  Evansville  the  people  were  using  and  drinking  stale  river 


96  Indiana  University 

water  from  old  whiskey  barrels,  and  everywhere  the  public  square* 
and  the  streets  and  the  alleys  were  the  receptacles  of  garbage  and  all 
kinds  of  litter  and  filth.  The  wells  in  general  thruout  the  state  were 
shallow,  and  usually  curbed  from  bottom  to  top  with  wood;  surface 
drainage  was  scarcely  thought  of,  and  the  vaults  in  the  villages  were 
in  little  if  any  better  condition  than  they  generally  are  today. 

In  Indianapolis  June  26  was  observed  "as  a  day  of  special  fasting 
and  prayer",  and  a  public  meeting  was  called  to  consider  the  situa- 
tion. 

In  Bloomington  they  neither  prayed  and  fasted  nor  called  a 
public  meeting,  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  but  waited — and  hoped  that  the 
pestilence  would  pass  them  by. 

On  June  29,  the  Indianapolis  Journal  assures  its  readers  that  all 
is  still  well — that  while  there  are  sporadic  cases  occurring  in  various 
places,  cholera  "is  not  yet  prevailing  as  an  epidemic". 

On  July  7,  the  editor  exclaims,  "Indiana  thus  far  most  merci- 
fully spared!"  But  in  a  postscript — for  editors  wrote  postscripts 
to  their  editorials  and  even  news  items  in  those  days — he  says,  "We 
understand  that  cholera  has  broken  out  with  great  violence  at 
Salem."  And  so  it  had.  Eight  days  before  the  editor  seems  to  have 
heard  of  it,  it  had  "assumed  a  malignant  form"  in  that  unhappy 
town,  according  to  what  is  now  known.  And  now  the  pestilence  was 
abroad  in  Indiana's  interior  places,  and  "terror  and  consternation", 
to  use  the  language  of  another,  everywhere  prevailed. 

Two  centers  of  attack  were  made,  one  in  the  eastern  part  of  the 
state  and  the  other  in  the  southern.  At  Greensburg,  a  small  village 
of  a  few  hundred  inhabitants,  30  deaths  occurred  in  a  few  hours.  Out 
of  a  population  of  150  in  Newcastle,  16  fell  victims.  The  mortality 
was  less  at  Richmond.  In  the  south,  the  severest  sufferer  was 
Salem.  Here  the  mortality  was  appalling.  In  the  town  65  died  and 
48  in  the  country  round  about,  113  in  all.  From  Salem  it  marched 
to  Paoli;  it  is  next  heard  of  at  Bedford,  and  thence  it  passed  on 
to  Bloomington. 

On  Saturday  morning,  August  9,  as  certain  ten-o'clock  church- 
goers passed  the  residence  of  Mr.  George  Johnson,  on  the  south- 
west corner  of  the  square,  on  the  lot  now  occupied  by  the  First 
National  Bank,  Anneka,  the  colored  family  servant,  was  seen  gather- 
ing fuel  to  start  the  dinner  fire.  At  two  o'clock,  the  same  church- 
goers, and  other  persons,  were  giving  her  a  hasty  burial.  Between 
the  hours  of  10  a.m.  and  2  p.m.  she  had  been  stricken  and  had  died 
of  cholera,  and  her  very  hurried  funeral  testifies  to  the  extreme  alarm 
that  had  possession  of  the  town. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  97 

The  same  afternoon  a  student  by  the  name  of  Huntington,  from 
Indianapolis,  was  attacked  and  died  during  the  night.  He  was 
buried  early  the  next  morning,  the  faculty  and  most  of  the  students 
attending  the  funeral.  Mr.  William  McCollough,  a  prominent 
citizen,  died  about  the  same  time,  and  others  followed  in  quick  suc- 
cession. 

All  was  now  alarm  and  confusion.  A  few  families  fled  the  town, 
one  in  particular  seeking  safety  at  Ellett's  tavern  on  the  road  to  Gos- 
port.  But  on  reaching  the  place,  the  landlord  and  his  wife  were  both 
found  in  the  agonies  of  death  from  the  dread  disease. 

All  College  work  now  ceased,  and  the  great  majority  of  the  stu- 
dents left  at  once  for  their  homes.  Says  the  venerable  Judge  Roache, 
who  was  here  as  a  student  at  the  time,  "Those  who  were  able  to  se- 
cure conveyances  or  horses  went  in  that  way,  but  my  recollection  is 
that  the  great  majority  could  not  secure  any  sort  of  conveyance,  and 
in  their  wild  hurry  to  escape  from  the  pestilence  left  town  on  foot." 
On  their  leaving  Dr.  Wylie  admonished  them  to  pursue  their  home- 
ward journeys  leisurely  and  cheerfully.  Three  Indianapolis  stu- 
dents, Judge  Roache  remembers, — Hugh  O'Neal,  who  afterwards 
became  somewhat  celebrated  as  a  lawyer,  David  Beaty,  and  a  young 
man  by  the  name  of  Pogue,  who  belonged  to  the  family  of  that  name 
which  is  reputed  to  have  been  the  first  to  settle  on  the  after-site  of 
Indianapolis — made  the  journey  as  far  as  Martinsville  afoot.  As 
they  passed  a  residence  a  mile  north  of  town,  they  were  observing 
President  Wylie's  admonition  to  pursue  their  homeward  way 
cheerfully,  by  shouting  "Good-bye  cholera!  Good-bye  cholera!" 
Shortly  before  reaching  Martinsville  they  were  amazed  at  finding 
that  the  pestilence  was  hard  on  their  track.  Young  Pogue  was  strick- 
en down  and  died  in  that  town.  No  other  deaths  of  students  are 
remembered.  Quite  a  number  of  citizens  of  the  town  and  of  the 
country  round  about  died,  but  the  pestilence  soon  abated. 

A  vacation  of  two  weeks  was  announced  at  the  time  the  students 
left,  but  we  learn  from  the  Indiana  Democrat  that  the  president  of 
the  College,  toward  the  close  of  the  month,  gave  notice  that  work 
would  be  resumed  in  the  institution  on  the  first  of  September.  The 
announcement  contained  the  cheering  intelligence  that  the  plague 
had  run  its  course  in  Bloomington,  and  that  general  good  health 
once  more  prevailed. 

Commencement  day  came  that  year  on  the  last  Wednesday  in 
September.  Two-thirds  of  August  had  been  lost,  but  there  was  no 
postponing  of  the  day  of  commencement  on  account  thereof.  It  is 
remembered,  however — and  it  shows  the  severe  notions  that  college 


98  Indiana  University 

men  entertained  in  those  days  concerning  fidelity  to  what  they  con- 
sidered their  trust — that  the  time  was  made  up  the  following  colle- 
giate year  by  a  shortening  of  the  fall  vacation  by  three  weeks. 

Commencement  was  held  that  year  in  the  new  chapel,  and  three 
names  were  added  to  the  roll  of  Alma  Mater's  alumni.  Says  Dr. 
Elliott: 

The  commencement  that  year  was  held  in  the  new  chapel,  and  the  orchestra 
was  composed  of  two  flutes,  one  of  them  cracked.  Imagine  the  discord.  Dr. 
Wylie  whispers  to  a  professor,  "What  makes  more  noise  than  a  pig  in  a  gate?" 
Reply,  "I  give  it  up."  The  doctor,  turning  his  thumb  towards  the  orchestra, 
says,  "Two  of  them!"  This  orchestra  led  to  the  formation  of  the  first  band  in 
the  College.  It  was  organized  by  Professor  Elliott  and  Mr.  Seward,  the  black- 
smith, and  met  weekly  for  instruction  and  practice  in  the  recitation  room  of  the 
former,  who  was  its  president  until  he  returned  to  the  South. 

So  many  episodes  that  touch  upon  the  history  of  the  College  and 
of  the  times  during  this  period  beckon  to  one  for  attention  that  it  be- 
comes difficult  to  make  a  satisfactory  selection.  There  is  one,  how- 
ever, that  was  so  peculiarly  the  product  of  the  age,  and  came  with 
such  threatening  to  the  life  of  the  College  and  yet,  comet-like, 
passed  it  by  with  so  little  harm,  that  I  feel  justified  in  selecting  it  to 
complete  this  paper. 

In  the  early  period  of  the  state's  history  men  fairly  deified  labor. 
The  most  desirable  quality  a  man  or  woman  could  possess  was  the 
power  and  the  will  to  perform  manual  labor.  The  young  man  who 
stood  at  the  head  as  a  railmaker,  or  a  woodchopper,  or  the  like,  was 
in  general  hard  to  turn  down  in  the  esteem  of  the  fathers  and  mothers 
who  had  marriageable  daughters.  And  so  the  young  woman  who 
could  spin  her  eighteen  or  twenty  cuts  a  day,  and  weave  the  fall  web 
of  jeans,  and  dip  the  winter  candles,  and  the  like,  was  quite  sure  of 
not  being  overlooked  by  the  able-bodied  railmaker  or  woodchopper. 

The  supreme  miss  ion  of  men  here  in  the  West  in  those  days  was 
to  subdue  the  forest  a  nd  surmount  the  physical  conditions  that  ob- 
structed their  way;  and  this  they  could  do,  and  only  do,  by  the  ex- 
ercise of  physical  prowess.  Hence  they  enthroned  labor  and  made  it 
the  chief  thing. 

For  this  cause  the  m  an  who  was  disabled  to  such  an  extent  that 
he  could  not  engage  in  manual  labor — who  was  lame,  too  fat,  too 
feeble,  had  the  phthisic  or  had  fits  or  was  too  lazy  to  work — well, 
they  usually  made  schoolmasters  out  of  these,  and  thus  got  what 
good  they  could  out  of  them. 

All  professional  men — lawyers,  physicians,  and  preachers — who 
did  not  show  a  willingness  on  occasion  to  turn  their  hands  to  what 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  99 

was  denominated  in  the  vernacular  of  the  times  as  an  "honest  em- 
ployment" were  very  much  in  danger  of  being  placed  under  the  ban. 

There  was  more  reality  in  this  than  we  are  nowadays  apt  to 
think.  Thirty  and  forty  years  ago  the  Indianapolis  banker  deemed 
it  morally  hazardous  to  lend  money  to  a  business  man  who  would  go 
hunting  or  fishing.  Mr.  Dunn,  in  his  history  of  the  slavery  episode 
in  Indiana,  tells  us  how  Jonathan  Jennings  secured  his  first  election 
to  Congress.  He  saw  that  if  he  would  succeed  it  must  be  thru  the 
votes  of  the  men  living  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  state,  so,  mounting 
his  horse,  he  rode  into  those  parts.  The  first  men  he  met  were  at  a 
log-rojling  during  the  morning  hours.  Not  one  did  he  know  of  the 
sturdy  log-rollers,  and  no  one  knew  him ;  nevertheless  he  dismounted 
and  took  his  place  in  the  rank  with  a  hand-spike,  and  rolled  logs  all 
day  with  the  best  of  them.  By  night  all  knew  him  and  were  for 
him,  and  thence  his  fame  went  forth  till  all  in  eastern  Indiana  were 
for  him,  and  he  was  elected  and  Indiana  was  made  a  free  state. 

Out  of  this  reverence  for  labor  came  trouble  to  the  schools,  and 
especially  to  the  Indiana  College.  There  was  a  very  general  senti- 
ment prevailing  that  education  and  manual  labor  ought  to  be  mar- 
ried, and  two  of  our  colleges — Franklin  and  Hanover — sprang  from 
that  kind  of  a  union.  An  effort  was  now  made  to  degrade  the  Indiana 
College  by  converting  it  into  some  sort  of  a  labor  institute.  The 
pressure  was  so  great  that  the  governor  of  the  state  felt  called  upon 
to  refer  to  it,  but  he  advised  that  nothing  be  done  unless  it  should 
first  meet  with  the  approval  of  the  College  management. 

Let  us,  however,  listen  to  Dr.  Elliott's  story  of  the  matter,  for 
had  he  not  seen  fit  to  contribute  it  no  thing  scarcely  could  ever  have 
been  known  of  it,  for  the  legislative  records  of  the  times  were  framed 
apparently  with  a  view  to  concealing  what  was  done,  rather  than 
making  it  known. 

This  was  the  era  of  the  "manual  labor"  craze  in  colleges.  It  was  believed 
that  by  working  certain  hours  per  day  on  a  college  farm,  a  student  could  not  only 
support  himself  but  pay  his  tuition;  acquire  an  education,  but  also  lay  up  money; 
and  some  colleges  tried  it,  and  we  had  to  take  our  turn.  In  the  Indiana  legisla- 
ture for  1833  the  senator  from  Switzerland  county  [John  Dumont]  had  introduced 
a  bill  to  reorganize  Indiana  University  [he  means  College]  into  a  manual  labor 
institution.  It  made  provision  for  purchasing  a  large  farm,  erecting  expensive 
buildings,  purchasing  all  kinds  of  agricultural  implements  and  machinery,  stocking 
it  with  all  kinds  of  stock,  making  it  obligatory  on  the  students  to  work  certain 
hours  each  day  on  the  farm  and  all  day  Saturday,  and  appointing  as  superin- 
tendent at  a  high  salary  the  laziest  man  in  Monroe  county. 

This  was  the  time  of  mud  roads  and  corduroy  turnpikes,  and  communication 
with  Indianapolis  was  like  angels'  visits,  and  the  bill  had  passed  its  first  two  read- 
ings before  we  heard  of  it.  Our  Board  of  Trustees  were  scattered  all  over  the 


100  Indiana  University 

state  and  the  faculty  were  left  to  their  own  resources.  Professor  Elliott  was 
instructed  to  go  to  Indianapolis  at  his  own  expense  and  work  to  get  the  bill 
defeated.  He  adopted  the  tactics  of  "a  still  hunt" — approached  the  senators 
one  by  one,  showed  them  that  the  provisions  of  the  bill  would  absorb  all  their 
funds,  drive  off  all  the  students,  and  close  the  doors  of  the  College.  He  received 
their  pledges  to  vote  against  it,  until  he  secured  three-fourths  of  the  Senate 
before  the  bill  was  ordered  to  its  third  reading.  The  Senate  had  been  very  polite 
to  Professor  Elliott  and  had  given  him  a  seat  in  their  chamber  opposite  to  Senator 
Dumont's.  It  had  been  agreed  to  let  Dumont  make  his  speech,  and  then  with- 
out reply  to  take  the  vote.  As  no  reply  was  made,  Dumont  was  confident  that 
it  would  carry  unanimously.  When  the  Senators  began  to  vote  "No!"  "No!" 
"No!"  he  looked  around  the  chamber  with  alarm  and  astonishment,  until  his  eye 
fell  upon  Professor  Elliott.  He  crossed  the  chamber  and,  seating  himself  beside 
him,  said:  "Ah,  Professor!  you  are  a  pretty  long-headed  fellow.  I  see  what 
you  have  been  doing.  You  have  beaten  us  this  time,  but  I  hope  to  see  the  day 
when  there  will  be  a  professor  of  agriculture  in  every  college  in  our  country." 

But  we  need  read  no  further  from  the  manuscript  of  this  charm- 
ing old  octogenarian.  Whether  the  defeat  of  the  Dumont  measure 
was  altogether  due  to  the  "fine  Italian  hand"  of  the  mathematics 
professor,  I  think  may  be  doubted ;  but  that  the  absurd  measure  was 
defeated,  and  that  Professor  Elliott  aided  materially  in  the  defeat, 
and  all  at  his  own  expense,  there  cannot  be  a  doubt.  Had  the  bill 
passed,  the  end  no  doubt  would  have  been  the  wrecking  of  Indiana 
College. 

Let  us  now  pass  on  to  the  collegiate  and  legislative  year  of  1837- 
38.  In  this  year  the  corporate  life  of  the  Indiana  College  ends  and 
that  of  the  Indiana  University  begins.  The  five  years  intervening 
between  1833  and  1838  abound  in  matter  interesting  enough  to  the 
historical  prowler,  but  no  event  of  them  all  affords  so  good  an  ending 
place  for  these  Foundation  Day  papers  as  the  change  from  College 
to  University. 

During  the  intervening  years  the  president  of  the  College  was 
brought  to  trial  before  the  board  on  what  appears  at  this  distance 
to  have  been  a  trumped-up  charge  of  an  abuse  of  trust  in  the  matter 
of  buying  books  for  the  library,  but  he  was  triumphantly  acquitted. 
Following  that,  was  an  effort  to  bring  the  matter  before  the  General 
Assembly  of  the  state,  but  that  proved  a  failure  also. 

Notwithstanding  the  occurrence  of  many  things  to  harass  and 
annoy,  the  institution  gathered  strength  and  the  attendance  of  stu- 
dents increased.  Professors  during  these  intervening  years  resigned 
and  went  to  other  fields  of  labor,  and  thus  it  began  to  be  made  plain 
to  the  people  that  the  College  was  a  thing  separate  and  apart  from 
the  men  who  happened  to  fill  its  chairs.  To  begin  the  discernment  of 
this  was  a  point  gained,  but  it  was  many,  many  years  before  the 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  ItJl 

lesson  was  fully  learned.  During  these  years  one  reads  between  the 
lines  that  the  people  of  the  state  were  beginning  to  be  impressed 
with  the  idea  that  the  College  was  in  some  way  necessary  to  the 
welfare  of  the  state.  I  do  not  know  whether  it  would  have  been 
possible  to  carry  thru  the  legislature  a  measure  appropriating  money 
to  the  institution  or  not,  but  I  hardly  think  it  would.  And  this  for 
the  one  reason,  if  for  none  other,  that  the  general  opinion  was  that 
the  institution,  if  not  abundantly,  was  at  least  sufficiently  endowed. 
It  was  only  a  few  years  before  this  time,  as  we  have  seen  on  a  former 
occasion,  that  a  legislative  committee  had  in  a  report  shown  that  the 
endowment  of  the  institution  could  be  made  to  amount  up  to  $100,- 
000  in  a  very  few  years;  and  the  committee  expressed  the  opinion,  in 
the  utmost  confidence  of  its  correctness,  that  a  hundred- thousand- 
dollar  endowment  would  be  ample  for  all  the  purposes  of  a  university 
such  as  was  contemplated  by  the  provisions  in  the  constitution  of 
1816. 

Well,  the  funds  available  as  a  source  of  income  amounted  to 
between  sixty  and  seventy  thousand  dollars,  and  there  was  remain- 
ing and  unsold  something  over  ten  thousand  acres  of  land,  which 
when  sold  would,  it  was  reasonably  hoped,  bring  the  endowment 
up  to  the  hundred-thousand-dollar  mark.  What  more  could 
any  college  want?  An  appropriation  would  have  been  impossible. 
No  member  of  the  General  Assembly  ever  proposed  it  by  bill  or 
otherwise,  so  far  as  I  can  learn.  Yet  there  were  men  in  the  state 
who  saw  clearly  enough  the  necessity  for  it.  Governor  Ray,  as  we 
have  heretofore  seen,  recommended  it;  and  Governor  Noble,  in  his 
annual  message  to  the  General  Assembly  in  1837-38,  renewed  the 
recommendatio  n . 

And  how  much  better  it  would  have  been  had  the  recommenda- 
tions been  heeded !  What  was  needed  at  that  time  above  all  things 
was  for  the  people  of  Indiana  to  know  that  the  Indiana  College  was 
not  an  institution  the  administration  of  whose  affairs  it  was  the 
duty  and  privilege  of  the  state  thru  its  legislature  merely  to  overhaul 
annually  and  approve  or  condemn,  but  that  it  was  a  ward  of  the 
state — an  institution  of  the  state  which  had  to  be  supported  by  the 
state.  Had  that  lesson  been  learned  fifty  years  ago,  how  different 
the  condition  of  the  institution  would  be  from  what  it  is!  And  that 
lesson  would  have  been  learned,  I  have  no  doubt,  had  Indiana  Col- 
lege been  less  efficient  than  it  then  was. 

It  has  already  been  stated  that  after  the  faculty  fight  of  1832, 
the  politicians  ceased  measurably  their  attacks  upon  the  College  and 
its  management. 


102  Indiana  University 

But  in  their  place  came  an  army  of  ecclesiastics,  backed  up  by  a 
great  church  organization,  and  the  war  went  on  against  the  Indiana 
College.  There  is  not  time  now  to  give  any  account  of  that  contro- 
versy. I  can  only  say  that  the  battle  wras  fought  out  with  a  ferocious 
courage  that  was  common  to  the  men  of  that  day,  and  that  the 
Indiana  College  came  out  of  the  contest  with  great  loss.  Students 
fell  off  and  professors  resigned,  and  something  had  to  be  done. 

In  December,  1837,  Governor  Noble,  in  his  annual  message,  after 
paying  a  high  tribute  of  praise  to  the  thoroness  and  effectiveness 
of  the  academic  work  which  the  College  had  already  done,  declared 
"this  to  be  a  propitious  time  for  carrying  into  effect  the  constitution 
of  Indiana  with  regard  to  the  establishing  of  a  State  University", 
and  concluded  by  recommending  that  the  College  have  bestowed  on 
it  that  distinction  together  with  the  necessary  endowment. 

This  was  at  the  commencement  of  the  session  in  December.  Bills 
were  presented  in  both  branches  of  the  Assembly  and  on  February 
13,  1838,  the  Senate  bill  was  concurred  in  by  the  House.  By  a 
vote  of  the  General  Assembly  of  the  state,  the  Indiana  College  was 
thus  transformed  into  the  Indiana  University. 

VI.     PERILS  FROM  SECTARIAN  CONTROVERSIES  AND 
THE    CONSTITUTIONAL    CONVENTION     (1838-50)1 

MR.  ROOSEVELT  in  his  charming  history,  The  Winning  of  the 
West,  tells  us  of  two  Kentucky  hunters  of  the  early  day  who  lived 
alone  in  the  wilderness,  far  from  any  settlement.  They  held  to 
opposing  religious  creeds,  and  in  spite  of  their  common  danger  they 
argued,  quarreled,  and  separated.  The  one  kept  the  old  camp,  while 
the  other  took  up  his  abode  in  a  hollow  tree,  but  within  shouting 
distance.  Every  day  on  arising  they  cried  "Good  morning!"  but 
not  another  word  would  they  speak  to  each  other  the  whole  day  long. 
And  this  habit,  the  author  tells  is,  they  kept  up  for  many  months 
during  which  they  saw  no  other  faces. 

To  us  who  live  in  this  liberal  year  of  grace,  Mr.  Roosevelt's  story 
seems  incredible.  And  so  I  suppose  the  story  of  the  assaults  made 
from  time  to  time  upon  this  institution — as  Seminary,  College,  and 
University — by  religionists,  or  rather  in  the  name  of  religion,  seems 
likewise  incredible  to  many. 

On  past  Foundation  Day  occasions  attempts  have  been  made  to 
tell  the  story  in  sufficient  detail  to  give  you  a  fair  idea  of  the  trials 
thru  which  the  institution  passed  from  that  May  Day  in  1824,  when 

^Delivered  in  the  Old  College  Chapel,  as  the  annual  Foundation  Day  address,  January  19,  1894. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  103 

it  received  its  first  instalment  of  students  on  down  till  after  the 
Seminary  became  a  college.  The  story  is  not  a  pleasant  one  to  tell. 
The  story-teller  is  liable  to  be  misunderstood.  There  has  been  such 
a  great  and  radical  change  in  the  thought  and  sentiment  of  the  people 
of  all  sects,  and  of  no  sects,  within  the  past  fifty  years,  that  we  of 
the  present  are  apt  to  misunderstand  the  story  when  told. 

It  was  said  (was  it  not?)  at  the  last  Foundation  Day  exercises 
that  you  were  hearing  the  last  of  the  sectarian  controversies  that 
were  waged  about  our  school.  Further  investigation,  nevertheless, 
reveals  the  fact  that  the  true  condition  of  the  institution  for  many 
years  cannot  be  understood  without  a  further  reference  to  church 
interference  with  its  affairs. 

In  the  beginning,  and  for  many  years  thereafter,  the  professors 
in  the  school  either  belonged  to  or  sympathized  with  the  Presby- 
terian faith.  Today  nobody  seems  to  care  to  what  church  a  professor 
belongs,  or  whether  he  belongs  to  any ;  what  his  religious  belief  is,  or 
whether  he  has  any.  If  he  demeans  himself  aright  and  can  teach 
successfully,  people  for  the  most  part  are  satisfied.  But  in  the  early 
days  of  our  College  history,  the  fact  that  the  professors  were  of  one 
faith  was  to  most  people  of  other  faiths  conclusive  evidence  of  the 
fact  that  sectarianism  was  taught  in  the  College. 

That  sectarian  tenets  ever  were  taught  in  Seminary,  College,  or 
University,  the  evidence,  in  so  far  as  I  can  discover,  utterly  fails  to 
prove.  On  the  contrary,  all  the  evidence  that  I  have  thus  far  found 
proves  there  was  no  such  teaching.  But  that  doesn't  matter  now. 
Some  people  of  the  long  ago  said  there  was  such  teaching,  and  many 
people  believed  them  and  the  College  suffered. 

Right  here  the  College  management,  it  seems  to  me,  was  at  fault. 
Everything  should  have  been  done  that  rightly  could  have  been 
done  to  take  the  sting  out  of  the  charge.  The  board  ought  to  have 
mixed  the  religion  of  the  faculty,  if  that  was  possible.  The  peculiar 
temper  of  the  times  made  that  a  politic  and  a  proper  thing  to  do.  The 
exigencies  of  the  institution  made  it  a  proper  thing  to  do.  But  the 
board  did  nothing,  and  so  the  charge  was  kept  up. 

In  1832  the  Indiana  Methodist  Conference  was  established,  and 
the  first  Conference  meeting  was  held  in  New  Albany.  At  that 
session  a  committee  was  appointed  "to  consider  and  report  on  the 
propriety  of  establishing  a  college,  or  conference  seminary".  The 
committee  reported  that  it  was  "very  desirable  to  have  an  institution 
under  our  own  control,  from  which  we  can  exclude  all  doctrines 
which  we  deem  dangerous,  though  at  the  same  time,  we  do  not  wish 


104  Indiana  University 

to  make  it  so  sectarian  as  to  exclude  or  in  the  smallest  degree  repel 
the  sons  of  our  fellow-citizens  from  the  same". 

But  it  was  decided  not  to  attempt  the  founding  of  a  school  yet 
awhile.  "It  was  thought",  says  Dr.  Holliday  in  his  life  of  the  Rev. 
Allen  Wiley, — "it  was  thought  if  we  could  receive  something  like  an 
equitable  share  of  privileges  in  the  State  University  at  Bloomington, 
it  would  answer  the  wants  of  our  people  for  several  years." 

This  then  was  the  beginning  of  the  last  and  of  the  most  formidable 
assault  made  upon  the  institution  in  the  name  of  religion.  Up  till 
this  time  a  fusillade  had  at  intervals  been  kept  up  all  along  the  line 
by  all  the  sectarian  warriors,  on  the  grounds  that  the  institution  was 
to  all  intents  and  purposes  a  Presbyterian  institution.  Now  the 
Methodist  church  steps  in,  reiterating  the  old  charge  and  demand- 
ing "an  equitable  share  of  privileges  in  the  institution" — whatever 
that  meant. 

In  1834  the  Conference  memorialized  the  General  Assembly  of 
the  state  on  the  subject.  In  this  memorial  the  charge  was  made, 
that  "one  common  hue,  one  common  religious  creed,  characterizes 
every  member"  of  the  faculty,  and  that  the  youth  of  all  the  churches 
save  the  Presbyterian  find  the  religion  of  their  fathers  only  "toler- 
ated" not  "domiciled"  in  the  institution. 

The  direct  relief  asked  for  by  the  memorialists  was  that  the  election 
of  the  members  of  the  Board  of  Trustees  be  taken  out  of  the  hands  of 
the  board  itself,  and  be  restored  to  the  legislature — a  proposition 
which,  if  considered  apart  from  the  motive  of  the  memorialists,  cer- 
tainly seems  a  very  proper  one.  For  as  the  law  then  stood,  giving 
the  board  the  power  of  filling  vacancies,  it  created  what  is  commonly 
called  a  close  corporation. 

But  right  here  I  deem  it  proper  to  say  that,  so  far  as  I  have  been 
able  to  discover,  the  board  was  never  charged  with  having  abused 
their  privilege.  The  truth  is  the  Board  of  Trustees  seem  to  have 
always  been  careful  to  have  all  sects,  parties,  and  interests  fairly 
represented.  No  sect  ever  complained  of  want  of  representation 
on  the  board',  but  of  want  of  representation  in  the  school. 

We  need  not  stop  to  inquire  particularly  what  was  meant  by  the 
equitable  share  in  the  privileges  of  the  institution  that  would  have 
satisfied  the  Methodist  want  of  half  a  century  ago.  From  the  lan- 
guage of  the  memorial,  it  may  seem  that  as  Presbyter ianism  was 
domiciled  in  the  school  the  "equitable  share  of  privileges"  would 
have  followed  the  domiciling  of  Methodism  also.  Dr.  Wylie,  in  his 
book,  Sectarianism  is  Heresy,  tells  us  that  Mr.  Mayfield,  a  Method- 
ist member  of  the  Board  of  Trustees,  proposed  to  him  that  a  chair 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  105 

in  the  College  be  established  to  be  called  the  "Wesleyan  chair"— 
which  warrants  the  inference  that  Mr.  May  field,  at  least,  had  in 
view  the  inculcation  of  sectat  ian  tenets ;  and  if  we  concede  what  was 
claimed  by  the  Methodists,  that  the  Presbyterian  professors  were 
teaching  Calvinism,  it  would  certainly  follow  that  Methodist  pro- 
fessors might  with  equal  right  teach  Arminianism. 

Dr.  Cyrus  Nutt,  who  was  for  so  long  a  time  [1861-75]  president 
of  this  University,  and  who,  as  a  Methodist  minister  and  educator  of 
long  and  honorable  standing,  may  therefore  be  appealed  to  as  an 
authority,  says  in  an  article  contributed  by  him  to  Goodrich  and 
Turtle's  History  of  Indiana  that  the  Methodist  church 

tendered  the  support  and  patronage  of  the  denomination  to  Indiana  College, 
provided  the  General  Assembly  would  so  modify  the  organization  thereof  as  to 
make  the  trustees  elective  by  the  legislature;  or,  if  the  trustees  would  place  a 
Methodist  in  the  faculty.  These  requests  were  steadily  denied  until  1836,  after  the 
Conference  had  selected  Greencastle  as  the  location  for  the  University  for  which 
the  legislature  had  just  granted  a  charter.  Then  the  authorities  of  the  State  Col- 
lege elected  Augustus  W.  Rutter,  a  Methodist  ...  to  the  chair  of  political 
economy  and  modern  languages.  But  this  liberality  came  too  late,  for  the  de- 
nomination had  a  college  of  its  own. 

Dr.  Holliday,  in  his  life  of  the  Rev.  Allen  Wiley,  says  that  a 
professorship  was  offered  to  him — but  when  he  does  not  say,  and  the 
College  records  of  the  period  are  destroyed. 

The  consequences  resulting  from  this  effort  of  the  Conference  to 
secure  their  "equitable  privileges"  in  the  State  College  were  far- 
reaching.  We  are  told  in  the  History  of  Methodism  that,  on  the  pre- 
sentation of  the  memorial  to  the  legislature,  "a  storm  of  indignation 
was  raised  among  those  who  controlled  the  State  University' ' .  They 
charged  that  it  was  an  effort  made  on  the  part  of  the  church  to 
capture  the  institution  and  to  reorganize  it  for  church  purposes. 

Of  course  the  Methodists  indignantly  denied  this,  and  an  angry 
debate  followed.  "It  was  tauntingly  said  in  the  halls  of  the  legis- 
lature", it  is  recorded  in  the  Indiana  Methodism — "that  there  was 
not  a  Methodist  in  America  with  sufficient  learning  to  fill  a  pro- 
fessor's chair  if  it  were  tendered  him."  The  speaker  of  these  ob- 
noxious words  was  Samuel  Bigger,  a  Presbyterian  from  Rushville. 
In  1840  Samuel  Bigger  was  elected  governor  of  the  state  on  the  Har- 
rison ticket.  No  power  short  of  the  direct  interposition  of  God  could, 
we  may  assume,  have  defeated  him  that  year.  Three  years  after- 
ward he  was  a  candidate  for  reelection,  but  there  was  no  log-cabin 
and  hard  cider  to  rally  around  this  time.  The  Governor's  ill-advised 
speech  of  eight  years  before,  ghostlike,  confronted  him.  The  time 


106  Indiana  University 

for  revenge  had  come,  and  the  bishops  and  elders  passed  the  word 
down  the  line  that  the  offender  must  be  beaten,  and  he  was  beaten. 
Subsequently  Bishop  Ames  said,  in  the  hearing  of  Mr.  W.  W.  Wool- 
len, as  stated  in  his  Biographical  and  Historical  Sketches  of  Early 
Indiana,  that  "it  was  the  Amen  corner  of  the  Methodist  church  that 
defeated  Governor  Bigger,  and  I  had  a  hand  in  the  work." 

But  what  of  the  College  amidst  this  battle  of  the  sects?  Dr. 
Nutt  says  that,  because  of  the  illiberality  of  those  in  control  of  it, 
"the  legislature  withheld  all  financial  support  for  thirty  years,  and 
the  State  University  made  no  progress". 

It  is  certainly  true  that  comparatively  little  progress  was  made 
by  the  institution  for  thirty  years,  and  for  many  more  than  thirty 
years;  but  it  is  too  much  to  say  that  it  was  all  due  to  the  cause  as- 
signed. Many  causes  existed,  each  of  which  had  something  to  do 
with  retarding  its  growth ;  but  the  chief  one  was  sectarianism  in  some 
form  or  other.  Our  poor  weak  institution  was  the  football  that  was 
kicked  back  and  forth  whenever  the  mighty  Methodist  and  puissant 
Presbyterian  athletes  saw  fit  to  have  a  game.  True,  other  sects,  as 
heretofore  has  been  shown,  kicked  on  occasion.  After  Dr.  Wylie's 
death,  which  occurred  in  1851,  a  Presbyterian  president,  Dr.  Ryors, 
was  chosen  to  succeed  him.  But  at  the  end  of  his  first  year  the 
Methodists  made  a  touchdown,  and  Dr.  Daily  went  in;  and  thence 
on  for  more  than  twenty  years  they  held  the  banner.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  there  never  was  any  real,  any  substantial,  any  notable  growth 
of  the  University  until  there  was  an  absolute  cutting  loose  from  all 
sectarian  or  church  influences  as  such.  Not  that  there  ever  was  any 
sectarian  teaching  in  the  school,  for  there  was  none — none  any  more 
than  there  is  today.  But  the  "outs"  always  insisted  that  there  was. 
The  "outs"  always  insisted  that  the  institution  was  a  tail  to  some- 
body's church  kite,  and  the  effect  was  paralyzing. 

The  contest  for  sectarian  control  continued,  first  and  last,  for 
more  than  fifty  years,  and  it  was  a  contest  that  had  to  be.  The  age 
was  a  pugnacious  one.  The  true  relation  of  the  College  to  the  state 
was  generally  misunderstood.  To  most  men  it  was  inconceivable 
how  a  college  that  was  not  under  some  sort  of  church  supervision 
could  exist  and  not  be  infidel.  Out  of  this  belief  came  a  call  of  the 
faithful  to  arms.  How  natural  the  question,  "If  some  church,  why 
not  my  church?"  And  so  it  became  a  conflict  over,  and  not  with, 
the  institution. 

From  the  battlefields  of  the  past  come  the  blessings  of  the 
present.  But  for  Runnymede  there  might  have  been  no  Magna 
Carta.  Asbury,  now  DePauw  University,  was  born  of  the  contest 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  107 

I  have  thus  briefly  attempted  to  set  forth;  and  after  many,  many 
years  our  own  University,  relieved  from  the  shackles  of  ecclesiastical 
contention,  leaped  at  a  bound  to  her  present  position  of  usefulness 
and  of  high  honor. 

As  has  been  stated  on  a  former  occasion,  the  Indiana  College  was 
legislated  into  the  Indiana  University  in  1838.  The  annual  income 
of  the  institution  at  that  time  from  all  sources  was  less  than  $5,000, 
and  this  was  thought  by  most  persons  of  the  state  to  be  an  adequate 
income  for  the  support  of  either  a  college  or  university. 

The  question  naturally  arises,  "Why  was  the  change  in  name 
from  College  to  University  made?    Why  was  a  University  charter 
granted  to  supersede  the  College  charter?" 

In  those  days  men  not  infrequently  petitioned  the  legislature  for 
a  change  of  name  because  of  some  odium  attaching  to  it,  and  it  may 
have  been  that  a  like  reason  was  thought  to  exist  in  this  case.  The 
life  of  the  Indiana  College  had  certainly  been  a  most  stormy  one. 
Beginning  with  the  great  faculty  fight  of  ten  years  before,  the  insti- 
tution had  been  in  a  continuous  state  of  turmoil  ever  after.  Indeed 
the  warfare  was  still  going  on,  and  the  legislature  may  have  thought 
that  a  change  of  name  would  be  followed  by  an  era  of  peace  and 
prosperity. 

But  another  and  better  reason  may  be  suggested. 

The  Indiana  College  was  a  typical  American  college.  It  had  its 
fixed  curriculum  of  studies,  which  required  four  years  for  the  student 
to  complete  in  order  that  he  might  receive  its  one  earned  degree. 
These  studies  were  divided  into  four  groups — the  classics,  mathe- 
matics, the  sciences,  and  the  humanities.  Each  student  was  re- 
quired, or  at  least  expected  to  give  the  same  attention  to  each  of  the 
studies  embraced  in  each  of  the  groups.  There  was  only  one  College 
bed,  and  every  sleeper,  whether  long  or  short,  had  to  conform  to  it. 

This  division  was  common  to  all  the  American  colleges  of  a  half- 
century  ago ;  indeed,  it  is  still  the  plan  of  most  colleges.  It  does  not 
mean  an  identity  in  subjects  taught  in  the  colleges  of  today,  nor  did 
it  mean  such  in  the  colleges  of  fifty  years  ago.  The  colleges  always 
differed,  for  instance,  as  to  which  of  two  classic  authors  should  be 
read,  and  as  to  whether  this  or  that  study  in  the  humanities  should 
be  pursued,  and  the  like;  but  as  to  the  general  classification  here 
given  they  were  all  of  one  mind.  A  school  whose  curriculum  recog- 
nized this  classification  and  presented  in  something  like  equal 
proportion  subjects  appropriate  to  each  group,  to  complete  which 
would  ordinarily  require  four  years  of  study,  was  (and  still  is)  a 
college  of  arts  and  sciences;  and  such  was  the  Indiana  College. 


108  Indiana  University 

Now,  to  such  a  college  add  one  or  more  professional  schools,  and 
according  to  the  prevalent  idea  of  fifty  or  sixty  years  ago  there 
would  result  a  university.  The  added  school  might  relate  to  en- 
gineering, pedagogy,  agriculture,  theology,  medicine,  law — one, 
some,  or  all  of  these.  The  idea  seems  to  have  been  one  of  addition 
to,  rather  than  of  incorporation  with,  the  College.  The  College 
was  to  remain  a  college.  The  Procrustean  bed  was  to  remain. 
The  candidate  for  the  A.B.  degree  was  to  have  his  yearly  stint  of 
classical, mathematical,  scientific,  and  humane  learning  as  of  yore. 
The  name  "university"  was  simply  descriptive  of  a  college  of  arts 
and  sciences  upon  which  had  been  grafted  one,  two,  three,  or  more 
schools  relating  directly  to  certain  of  the  activities  of  life. 

This,  I  think,  was  the  old  American  idea  of  what  was  required  to 
constitute  a  university.  It  marks  the  first  step  in  the  development 
of  the  American  university  out  of  the  American  college. 

This  is  certainly  the  idea  that  the  General  Assembly  had  when 
they  passed  the  University  charter  act;  for  they  expressly  declared 
that  schools  of  medicine  and  law  should  be  established.  And  it  was 
certainly  the  understanding  of  those  having  in  charge  the  conduct 
and  management  of  the  institution  for  more  than  forty  years  there- 
after. 

No  effort  was  ever  made,  so  far  as  is  now  known,  to  add  a  school 
of  medicine  until  1872,  when  an  arrangement  was  made  with  an 
Indianapolis  medical  school  whereby  it  became  a  part  of  the  Uni- 
versity. But  the  arrangement  soon  fell  thru  with,  and  nothing  of 
the  kind  has  ever  [till  1903]  been  repeated. 

In  a  very  short  time  after  the  granting  of  the  University  charter 
the  board  began  to  cast  about  for  a  law  professor,  but  it  was  not  till 
1842  that  one  was  found.  In  that  year  David  McDonald,  who  was 
the  judge  of  the  tenth  judicial  circuit — which  circuit  was  composed  of 
ten  counties,  of  which  Monroe  was  one — moved  from  the  town  of 
Washington  in  Daviess  county  to  Bloomington.  On  June  7  he  was 
elected  to  the  office  of  professor  of  law,  and  on  December  7  following 
he  read  the  first  law  lecture  that  was  ever  read  in  this  institution. 

The  law  year  in  the  beginning  was  limited  to  three  months.  It 
was  the  purpose  of  the  founders  of  the  school  that  the  law  terms  and 
law  year  should  coincide  with  the  collegiate  terms  and  year,  but  it 
was  a  long  time  before  that  purpose  was  carried  out.  In  1848  a 
half-month  was  added,  and  some  time  in  the  sixties  another  half- 
month  was  added,  and  subsequently  another  half -month — making 
a  four  months'  term ;  and  early  in  the  seventies  the  original  purpose 
of  the  founders  was  carried  out. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  109 

The  change  from  College  to  University  (in  name)  was  not  fol- 
lowed by  that  revival  of  its  fortunes  that  the  friends  of  the  institu- 
tion no  doubt  hoped  for.  The  war  that  for  so  long  a  time  had  been 
waged  against  the  institution,  first  by  one  foe  and  then  by  another, 
went  on  with  scarcely  a  break  in  the  ranks.  New  enemies  were  ever 
present  to  take  up  the  fight  when  the  old  ones  left  off. 

At  the  very  next  session  of  the  legislature,  three  Bloomington 
citizens,  two  of  whom  were  members  of  the  Board  of  Trustees, 
knocked  at  the  doors  of  legislation  with  a  memorial  containing  sun- 
dry charges  of  evil-doing  against  the  president. 

The  legislature  declined  to  act,  as  it  had  so  often  done  before,  but 
referred  the  matter  back  to  the  board.  On  the  second  of  April, 
1839,  this  body  was  convened — David  Wallace,  the  governor  of 
the  state,  and  by  virtue  of  his  office  its  vice-president,  being  present. 

Dr.  William  C.  Foster,  a  citizen  of  the  town,  appeared  and  filed 
a  long  string  of  charges— which,  after  the  lapse  of  nearly  fifty  years, 
and  after  the  deaths  of  accuser  and  accused  and  triers,  look  as  if  they 
owed  more  to  the  malevolence  of  the  accuser  than  to  the  evil-doing  of 
the  accused.  Duplicity  of  conduct,  mistreatment  of  professors, 
refusal  to  read  from  the  rostrum  the  by-laws  of  the  institution, 
inadequate  punishment  of  two  wicked  students,  were  some  of  the 
charges. 

It  was  not  the  first  time  that  the  medical  doctor  appeared  as  the 
public  prosecutor  of  the  divinity  doctor.  During  College  days  he 
had  caused  the  president  to  plead  at  the  trustees'  bar  to  a  charge  of 
malfeasance  in  the  purchase  of  books  for  the  College  library;  but 
the  decision  was  against  him.  For  five  days  the  board  now  sat  as  a 
court,  and  heard  the  evidence  from  more  than  twenty  witnesses 
who  were  examined  and  cross-examined  by  the  two  doctors. 

At  the  close  the  decision  was  rendered.  The  president  was  ac- 
quitted on  all  the  charges — "triumphantly  vindicated",  wrote  the 
governor  of  the  state  in  his  next  annual  message  to  the  legislature. 
This  was  not,  as  already  stated,  the  first  public  trial  before  the 
Board  of  Trustees  that  President  Wylie  was  subjected  to,  nor  for 
that  matter  the  last.  Four  times  during  his  administration  of 
twenty-two  years  he  was  required  to  plead  to  charges  preferred 
against  him,  and  as  many  times  was  he  "triumphantly  vindicated". 
From  first  to  last  he  was,  in  more  senses  than  one,  a  much  tried  man. 

A  College  cyclone  followed  at  the  close  of  the  trial  of  which  I 
have  just  given  some  account.  The  reader  of  the  contemporaneous 
record  cannot  help  drawing  the  inference,  from  sundry  hints  and 
innuendoes,  that  it  was  not  a  state  of  perfect  peace  and  harmony  in 


110  Indiana  University 

the  faculty  at  that  time.  If  there  was  a  lion  and  a  lamb  in  that 
faculty — or,  for  that  matter,  a  lion  and  two  or  three  lambs — they 
were  certainly  not  lying  down  together.  But  be  this  as  it  may, 
three  professors  out  of  five  were  beheaded  by  one  resolution,  and 
the  catalog  showed  the  teaching  force  to  be  a  president,  one  professor 
(our  present  Dr.  T.  A.  Wylie),  and  Matthew  M.  Campbell,  of  the 
preparatory  department. 

The  number  of  students  that  year  dropped  to  89  — 52  in  the  four 
College  classes  and  27  in  the  preparatory.  The  next  year  the  total 
number  dropped  as  low  as  64 — the  lowest  ever  reached — 41  of  whom 
were  in  the  four  College  classes,  and  23  under  Professor  Campbell. 

After  this  lowest  point  of  depression,  growth  came — slow  to  be 
sure,  but  steady  growth.  The  faculty  chairs  were  filled,  the  Law 
School  was  added,  and  (by  1846)  198  names  of  students  appear  in  the 
catalog.  Thence  on  till  President  Wylie's  death,  which  occurred 
in  1851,  the  number  never  fell  below  163. 

The  want  of  time  forbids  that  we  follow  the  story  of  the  misfor- 
tunes that  happened  to  the  institution  during  the  years  that  inter- 
vened between  1840  and  1850 ;  and  I  am  glad  that  the  want  of  time 
does  forbid  it,  for  the  story  is  not  a  pleasant  one  to  dwell  upon. 

It  will  not  startle  you,  I  know,  if  I  tell  you  that  the  public  grew 
weary  of  the  contentions  over  the  University  at  Bloomington.  Long 
enough  had  it  been  made  by  friend  and  foe  a  disturbing  element  in 
state  politics.  Long  enough  had  it  been  a  bone  of  contention  for 
combative  ecclesiastics  to  fight  over.  Long  enough  had  it  been  the 
victim  around  which  the  Bloomington  factions  gathered  and  fought 
and  brought  scandal  to  the  state.  And  so  the  question  began  to  be 
bruited  in  the  legislature,  Whether  the  cause  of  education  in  Indi- 
ana, and  especially  the  best  interests  of  the  University,  would  not 
be  promoted  by  a  removal  of  it  to  a  more  peaceful  and  appreciative 
locality. 

The  state  was  in  this  temper  when  the  constitutional  convention 
of  1850  met.  Most  of  us  know  the  great  prominence  given  to  the 
University  in  the  constitution  of  1816.  "It  shall  be  the  duty  of  the 
General  Assembly,  as  soon  as  circumstances  will  permit,  to  provide 
by  law  for  a  general  system  of  education,  ascending  in  a  regular 
gradation  from  township  schools  to  a  state  university,  wherein 
tuition  shall  be  gratis,  and  equally  open  to  all." 

There  is  no  mention  made  of  the  University  in  the  constitution 
of  1850.  Why?  The  question  is  not  hard  to  answer.  In  truth  it  is 
harder  to  tell  how  it  happened  that  it  was  not  made  possible,  by  the 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  111 

convention  that  framed  the  organic  act,  for  the  institution  to  be 
robbed  of  its  endowment  and  left  to  perish  off  the  face  of  the  earth. 

The  convention  of  1850  was  the  most  remarkable  lawmaking 
body  that  was  ever  convened  in  the  state.  Never  before  nor  since 
did  the  people  of  Indiana  so  generally  disregard  the  claims  of  party 
as  they  did  in  the  selection  of  delegates  to  represent  them  in  that 
convention.  Among  its  members  were  found  many  of  the  ablest 
lawyers  of  the  state  and  the  best  debaters.  Many  of  the  best  men 
of  other  callings  were  there,  and  of  the  rank  and  file  there  were  few 
who  were  not  looked  upon  as  safe  men  and  of  most  excellent  judg- 
ment. Robert  Dale  Owen,  a  philosophic  statesman  of  a  high  order 
of  merit  was  there.  Daniel  Read,  a  professor  in  this  University  and 
a  man  of  wide  reading  and  of  sound  learning,  was  there.  John  I. 
Morrison,  of  Salem,  for  some  time  a  professor  in  this  University 
and  an  educator  of  high  rank,  was  there.  And  so  were  the  two 
Carrs,  and  Pettit  and  Kilgore,  and  Bright  and  Rariden,  and  others 
that  I  could  mention  but  of  whom  many  of  you  most  likely  have 
never  heard ;  but  they  were  considered  strong  men  in  their  day.  I 
could  mention  some  of  whom  you  have  heard,  Coif  ax  and  Hendricks, 
and  Holman,  also  Hovey,  but  they  were  comparatively  young  men 
then. 

There  were  men  in  that  convention  who  aspired  to  seats  in  the 
United  States  Senate  and  who  reached  the  goal  of  their  ambition. 
There  were — I  do  not  know  how  many,  who  had  served  in  Congress, 
and  more  who  subsequently  served.  There  were  judges,  more  than 
I  know  of,  in  esse  and  in  posse.  There  were  two  members  who  were 
destined  to  reach  the  vice-presidential  chair.  And  it  does  look  as  if 
the  Indiana  University  ought  to  have  sailed  thru  summer  seas  into 
the  haven  of  that  constitution. 

But  from  the  first  it  was  apparent  that  the  University  was  in 
hard  lines.  From  the  first  a  disposition  to  cut  it  up  root  and  branch 
was  shown  that  is  almost  incomprehensible  to  us  of  the  present. 

Two  causes,  I  think,  may  be  assigned  for  the  existence  of  this 
spirit  toward  the  institution.  Some  time  'ago  there  was  presented 
from  this  platform  a  discussion  on  the  want  of  educational  facilities 
in  our  state  during  the  middle  ages  of  its  history.  I  have  no  inten- 
tion of  repeating  on  this  occasion  what  was  said  on  that.  My  only 
purpose  is  to  remind  you  of  the  very  low  standard  of  common  school 
education  in  Indiana  at  the  time  of  the  meeting  of  that  convention, 
and  that  the  low  standard  had  borne  fruit.  The  illiteracy  of  the 
state  was  appalling.  There  were  over  73,000  persons  in  Indiana 
over  the  age  of  twenty  years,  as  shown  by  the  census  of  1850,  who 


112  Indiana  University 

could  neither  read  nor  write.  There  were  1,000  illiterates  out  of  a 
population  of  11,283  here  in  Monroe  county,  and  Monroe  county 
was  no  worse  off  in  this  respect  than  were  her  neighbors. 

The  public  men  of  the  state  were  alive  to  this  state  of  affairs,  and 
had  been  for  years.  Law  after  law  had  been  passed  to  stem  the  tide 
of  ignorance,  but  in  vain.  The  academies  (and  their  name  was 
legion)  and  the  colleges  were  doing  their  work  fairly  well ;  but  it  was 
in  the  common  schools  that  the  failure  was.  It  was  the  common 
school  children  of  the  state  who  were  the  victims  of  the  great  wrong. 
So  prominently  did  the  inadequacy  of  the  common  school  stand 
out,  and  so  self-evident  was  it  that  the  great  tide  of  ignorance  would 
continue  to  roll  over  the  land  until  the  common  schools  were  re- 
created, that  their  wants,  their  needs,  tended  to  obscure  the  use- 
fulness to  the  state  of  that  higher  education  which  the  University 
was  ordained  to  give.  And  so,  many  of  the  constitution  makers  of 
1850  could  see  no  educational  want  on  their  horizon  but  that  which 
centered  immediately  in  the  common  schools. 

Mr.  John  I.  Morrison,  chairman  of  the  committee  on  education, 
early  in  the  session  introduced  a  series  of  resolutions  in  the  interest 
of  the  University;  but  these  were  followed  by  counter  resolutions, 
gravely  proposing  to  sandbag  the  University  and  rob  her  of  her 
patrimony,  by  distributing  the  income  to  the  district  schools  of  the 
state. 

A  report  from  Mr.  Morrison's  committee  to  the  effect  that  the 
University  fund  came  from  a  donation  from  the  federal  government 
for  the  purposes  of  higher  education,  and  that  it  could  not  therefore 
be  legally  directed  to  common  school  purposes,  soon  put  that  scheme 
to  rest. 

But  it  was  shortly  followed  by  another.  Judge  Borden,  a  dele- 
gate from  Allen  county,  was  instructed,  he  declared,  to  do  something 
adverse  to  the  institution.  He  was  an  educated  gentleman  and  an 
immigrant  from  the  state  of  New  York.  I  think  it  likely  that  he  was 
acquainted  with  the  New  York  plan,  for  he  now  proposed  to  dis- 
tribute the  income  from  the  University  fund  among  all  the  colleges 
of  the  state,  in  proportion  to  the  attendance  of  students.  And  a 
battle  was  fought  in  the  convention  over  that  ridiculous  proposition. 
Many  speeches  were  made,  and  the  debate  took  a  wide  range.  The 
defense  was  mainly  made  over  the  sacredness  of  the  trust.  Time 
forbids  that  I  should  follow  that  debate.  Doubtless  to  the  friends  of 
the  institution  there  seemed  at  the  time  grave  cause  for  apprehend- 
ing the  worst.  But  there  were  too  many  men  in  that  convention 
who  clearly  foresaw  the  odium  that  would  justly  be  encountered  by 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  113 

the  state  for  any  such  act  of  bad  faith  as  that;  and  so,  when  the 
Hon.  John  Pettit,  a  member  from  Tippecanoe  county,  presented  a 
resolution  in  these  words,  "All  trust  funds  held  by  the  state  shall 
remain  inviolate  and  be  faithfully  and  exclusively  applied  to  the 
purposes  for  which  the  trust  was  created",  the  friends  of  the  institu- 
tion rallied  to  its  support  and  passed  it,  and  made  it  a  part  of  the 
constitution  of  .the  state. 

If  the  University  be  not  mentioned  by  name  in  this  constitution, 
the  wise  and  timely  section  just  read  was  made  a  part  of  it  for  the 
express  purpose  of  forever  placing  its  endowment  beyond  the  reach 
of  legislative  dispersion.  At  the  very  time  that  this  constitutional 
inhibition  was  passed,  there  was  an  act  pending  in  the  legislature  of 
the  state  to  distribute  the  University  funds  among  the  common 
schools  of  the  state.  Whether  that  act  would  have  become  a  law  or 
not,  we  do  not  know.  But  I  think  this  much  may  safely  be  said — 
that  but  for  the  constitutional  provision  just  read,  there  would  have 
come  a  time  when  no  fund,  University  or  common  school,  would  have 
been  deemed  so  sacred  as  to  escape  the  touch  of  unholy  legislative 
hands. 

Our  present  state  constitution  is  characterized  by  many  wise  and 
statesmanlike  provisions.  One  of  the  greatest  of  these  is  the  one 
which  provides  that  all  trust  funds  shall  forever  remain  inviolate, 
and  be  faithfully  and  exclusively  applied  to  the  purpose  for  which 
the  trust  was  created. 


PART  II 

[Except  where  otherwise  indicated,  the  following  addresses  were  delivered  at 
the  Centennial  Educational  Conference,  held  by  Indiana  University,  May  5-7, 
1920.  With  the  exception  of  the  second  address  by  Dr.  Warthin,  they  are  ar- 
ranged in  the  order  of  their  places  on  the  program.] 


(115) 


THE  AMERICAN  UNIVERSITY:  TODAY 
AND  TOMORROW 


Jacob  Gould  Schurman  was  born  at  Freetown,  Prince  Edward  Island,  Domin- 
ion of  Canada,  May  22,  1854,  the  descendant  of  a  New  York  Dutch  family.  In 
1875  he  won  on  examination  the  Gilchrist  scholarship,  open  to  all  Canadians 
under  twenty-one  years  of  age,  and  on  this  scholarship  he  studied  for  three  years 
in  England,  Scotland,  and  France,  receiving  from  the  University  of  London  the 
A.B.  degree  with  first  place  in  Honors  Philosophy  in  1877,  and  the  A.M.  in  1878. 
He  studied  in  Paris  and  at  the  University  of  Edinburgh  in  1877-78,  receiving  from 
the  latter  the  Sc.D.  degree  in  Mental  and  Moral  Science.  In  June,  1878,  he  was 
awarded  one  of  the  two  Hibbert  Traveling  Fellowships,  which  were  open  to 
graduates  of  all  British  universities,  and  for  which  there  were  over  sixty  compet- 
itors from  Oxford,  Cambridge,  Dublin,  London,  etc.  On  this  fellowship  during 
the  next  two  years  he  studied  at  the  Universities  of  Heidelberg,  Berlin,  Goet- 
tingen,  and  in  Italy.  The  following  institutions  have  conferred  the  LL.D.  degree 
on  him:  Columbia  University,  1892;  Yale,  1901;  Edinburgh,  1902;  Williams, 
1908;  Dartmouth,  1909;  Harvard,  1909;  Brown,  1914;  University  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, 1917;  Dalhousie,  1919;  Rutgers,  1920.  In  1919  he  was  appointed  a  Chev- 
alier of  the  Legion  of  Honor.  He  began  his  teaching  career  at  Acadia  College  and 
Dalhousie  College,  in  1880,  as  professor  of  philosophy.  From  1886  to  1892  he 
was  Sage  professor  of  philosophy  in  Cornell  University,  and  president  from  1892 
to  1920.  He  was  president  of  the  first  United  States  Philippine  Commission 
and  spent  most  of  1899  in  the  Philippine  Islands.  He  served  as  minister  to  Greece 
and  Montenegro  in  1912-13,  and  as  Stafford  Little  lecturer  at  Princeton  in  1914. 
In  1915  he  was  the  first  vice-president  of  the  New  York  state  constitutional  con- 
vention, and  a  member  of  the  New  York  state  food  commission  in  1917-18.  His 
published  works  include:  Kantian  Ethics  and  the  Ethics  of  Evolution,  The  Eth- 
ical Import  of  Darwinism,  Belief  in  God,  Agnosticism  and  Religion,  A  Generation 
of  Cornell,  Report  (to  Congress)  of  the  Philippine  Commission  (joint  author), 
Philippine  Affairs — A  Retrospect  and  Outlook,  The  Balkan  Wars,  Why  America 
is  in  the  War. 


(117) 


THE  AMERICAN  UNIVERSITY:  TODAY 
AND  TOMORROW1 

By  JACOB  GOULD  SCHURMAN 

EDUCATION  is  a  development  of  human  faculties  and  powers. 
It  has  reference,  therefore,  to  a  goal,  an  end,  a  purpose,  a  final 
cause.  Whither  would  we  go,  at  what  would  we  aim,  in  and  by 
our  educational  processes  and  methods?  I  know  not  how  we  can 
ever  answer  that  inquiry  without  facing  the  still  more  formidable 
and  fundamental  question:  What  is  the  chief  end  of  man? 

THE  ENDS  OF  LIFE:    RELIGIOUS 

But  the  answer  which  the  Christian  catechism  gives  to  this 
latter  problem,  however  true,  is  not  specific  enough  for  our  present 
purpose.  We  believe,  indeed,  in  our  best  moments  that  human  life 
is  charged  with  some  divine  mission,  that  we  are  fellow-workers 
with  God  even  in  this  life,  and  that  we  shall  not  be  separated  from 
Him  in  the  life  beyond  the  grave.  The  conviction  is  inextinguish- 
able in  the  human  heart  that  our  being's  life  and  home  is  with  in- 
finitude and  only  there.  But  this  general  conception  and  this 
fundamental  faith,  while  investing  the  life  of  man  wth  ineffable 
dignity  and  inexhaustible  significance,  do  not  reveal  to  us  the  ends 
at  which  we  should  aim  generally  or  the  elements  that  enter  into 
the  summum  bonum  of  human  existence.  It  is  no  disparagement  of 
Christianity  to  say  that  it  is  a  religion  and  not  a  theory  of  educa- 
tion or  a  philosophy  of  life.  What  it  contributes  to  every  system 
of  thought  is  the  declaration  of  the  supremacy  of  righteousness 
over  any  other  end  which  men  may  pursue.  Seek  first  the  King- 
dom of  God  and  His  righteousness.  Or,  in  the  more  legalistic 
language  of  the  Old  Testament  but  with  the  same  substance  of 
doctrine:  Fear  God  and  keep  His  commandments,  for  this  is  the 
whole  duty  of  man. 

A  self-surrender  and  obedience  to  the  divine  will:  these  are 
the  supreme  demands  made  upon  the  heart  and  mind  and  conscience 
of  the  children  of  men.  But  while  the  highest,  they  cannot  be  the 
only  objects  of  life.  They  are  the  end  of  our  spiritual  and  moral 
nature.  But  we  are  also  endowed  with  rational  natures  which  de- 

*Foundation  Da    Address,  January  20,  1920. 

(119) 


120  Indiana  University 

light  to  think  and  reason  and  know.  And  we  have  an  animal 
organism  for  which  there  must  be  provided  food,  clothing,  shelter, 
and  other  objects  for  the  gratification  generally  of  our  instincts  and 
impulses — an  organism  which  has  led  to  the  creation  of  that  vast 
economic  system  which  revolves  round  the  poles  of  capital  and 
labor. 

THE  ENDS  OF  LIFE:    RATIONAL 

If  the  Jews  have  been  the  moral  and  religious  guides  of  Europe 
and  America,  the  Greeks  have  been  their  intellectual  teachers. 
And  as  the  Jews  emphasized  the  supremacy  of  the  moral  and 
spiritual,  the  Greeks  exalted  and  crowned  the  rational  and  ideal. 
Aristotle,  the  greatest  thinker  of  their  race,  and  still  the  "master", 
as  Dante  called  him,  "of  those  who  know",  declared  that  the  end 
of  human  existence,  the  summum  bonum,  was  to  be  found  in  the 
activity  of  the  rational  powers  of  man. 

We  accept  the  result  of  Aristotle's  masterly  analysis  of  the 
ends  of  life.  We  recognize  that  the  exercise  of  the  powers  of  rea- 
son and  reflection  is  a  higher  and  nobler  pursuit  than  wealth, 
pleasure,  fame,  or  any  of  the  other  objects  that  he  discusses.  It  is 
not  Aristotle's  fault  that  he  lived  three  hundred  years  before  the 
Christian  conception  of  life  was  revealed  to  the  world.  How  he 
would  have  regarded  it  we  can  only  conjecture.  It  is  not  improb- 
able that  with  the  predominant  intellectualism  of  his  race — an  in- 
tellectualism  that  led  Socrates  to  declare  that  men  could  not  know 
the  right  without  choosing  it — he  would  have  rejected  the  trans- 
cendental claims  of  goodness  and  righteousness  and  self-sacrifice, 
even  if  he  had  not  felt,  like  the  later  Greeks,  that  the  cross  was  a 
symbol  of  "foolishness".  But  we,  the  heirs  of  all  the  Christian 
ages,  should  in  this  matter  be  wiser  than  even  the  greatest  of  the 
pre-Christian  sages.  And  while  we  accept  Aristotle's  doctrine  of 
the  dignity  and  excellence  of  the  rational  nature  of  man,  we  hold 
with  Bishop  Butler  "that  conscience,  if  it  had  might  as  it  has  right, 
would  absolutely  govern  the  world". 

There  is  a  similar  one-sidedness  in  Aristotle's  conception  of  our 
appetitive  and  impulsive  nature.  And  the  system  of  slavery  prac- 
ticed even  by  the  Greeks  made  it  still  easier  for  him  to  look  down 
upon  the  toilers  by  whom  the  imperious  needs  of  that  nature  were 
satisfied.  There  was  for  Aristotle  in  all  manual  labor,  as  Professor 
Butcher  has  pointed  out,  something  not  only  menial  but  ignoble. 
He  was  in  this  respect  also  the  child  of  his  age.  The  Greek  ideal 
left  out  of  account  the  disinherited,  the  fallen,  the  weak  and  op- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  121 

pressed.  The  aristocratic  sentiment,  which  was  very  strong  in 
the  ancient  democracies,  colors  all  Aristotle's  thinking.  Not 
only  slaves  but  artisans,  laborers,  and  shopkeepers  were  excluded 
by  him  from  the  body  of  citizens.  Aiming  to  develop  the  highest 
and  most  complete  life  for  man  he  fixes  his  attention  only  upon  the 
favored  few,  the  gifted,the  strong,  the  noble.  In  his  ideal  Greek 
gentleman  you  find,  not  only  a  certain  exclusiveness  of  mind,  but 
also  a  certain  tone  of  contempt  for  what  is  commonplace.  Perhaps 
if  Aristotle  could  have  looked  ahead  two  and  twenty  centuries  and 
seen  mechanical  industries  rationalized  by  science  he  would  have 
abandoned  his  attitude  of  haughty  contempt  and  regarded  with 
more  sympathetic  and  kindly  eyes  not  only  manual  labor  but  also 
the  human  toilers  who  perform  it  and  made  it  the  duty  of  his  state 
to  develop  in  them  also  the  highest  and  richest  type  of  life  of  which 
they  are  capable.  As  it  was,  Aristotle's  conception  of  the  summum 
bonum,  his  ideal  of  the  highest  or  perfect  life,  could  be  realized 
only  in  those  who  devoted  themselves  to  statesmanship,  to  knowl- 
edge and  speculation,  and  to  certain  forms  of  art. 

THE  ENDS  OF  LIFE:    MATERIAL  AND  ECONOMIC 

The  modern  world  corrects  Aristotle's  narrow  exclusiveness. 
We  recognize  that  rational  objects  are  higher  than  material.  But 
as  long  as  man  has  a  body  he  must  include  among  the  ends  of  life 
not  only  the  things  of  the  spirit  and  the  things  of  the  mind  but  also 
the  economic  goods  that  enable  him  to  live  and  work  and  provide 
himself  with  a  suitable  measure  of  physical  comfort  and  enjoyment. 

All  this  brings  us  back  to  the  popular  conception  of  man  as  a 
being  made  up  of  spirit,  mind,  and  body.  Christianity,  like  Juda- 
ism and  every  other  great  religion,  proclaims  the  supremacy  of  the 
spiritual  interests  among  all  the  ends  of  human  existence.  On  the 
other  hand,  philosophy,  which  is  an  effort  to  think  out  the  ground 
and  significance  of  the  universe,  has,  not  unnaturally,  tended  to 
glorify  the  rational  nature  of  man  as  his  highest  endowment  and  to 
find  in  it  the  key  to  the  interpretation  of  the  world.  This  tendency 
was  most  marked  in  Aristotle,  the  greatest  of  philosophers.  It  was, 
indeed,  implicit  in  the  best  thought  of  his  race,  which  pictured  man 
as  a  synopsis  or  exemplar  of  the  universe — a  microcosm  facing  that 
macrocosm — and  conceived  of  Logos  or  Reason  as  the  common 
ground  of  both.  And  from  ancient  Greece  this  sublime  Rational- 
ism has  spread  thruout  the  entire  civilized  world.  But  in  modern 
times  the  spread  of  democracy  and  the  application  of  science  to 


122  Indiana  University 

industry  and  the  development  of  a  vast  system  of  mechanical  pro- 
duction and  transportation  have  tended  to  focus  attention  upon  the 
material  interests  of  mankind,  to  enhance  their  value  in  the  scale 
of  human  ends,  to  invest  manual  laborers  with  a  new  importance  and 
dignity,  and  to  stimulate  on  their  behalf  radical  and  even  revolu- 
tionary doctrines  of  the  rights  of  man  and  of  the  functions  and  duties 
of  the  state  which  perplex  timid  thinkers  and  alarm  the  stolid  sup- 
porters of  existing  institutions. 

THE  ECONOMIC  READJUSTMENT 

But  the  world  is  not  headed  for  anarchy  in  its  politics  or  ma- 
terialism in  its  philosophy  or  scepticism  in  its  religion.  Not 
anarchy,  because  man  is  a  moral  and  political  animal  and  must 
live  in  a  society  based  on  justice.  Not  materialism,  because  while 
man  has  a  physical  organism  he  is  in  his  inmost  essence  mind  and 
spirit.  Not  scepticism,  because  the  divine  spark  in  man  cannot 
permanently  estrange  itself  from  the  all-embracing  divinity  in  whom 
we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being. 

What  we  are  witnessing  in  this  age  is  another  phase  of  the 
ever-recurrent  process  of  adjustment  to  new  conditions.  History 
reveals  to  us  epochs  of  faith  and  epochs  of  doubt,  periods  of  liberty 
and  periods  of  oppression,  centuries  of  science  and  centuries  of 
superstition.  Great  thinkers  arise  and  dominate  men's  modes  of 
thought.  There  was  a  Ptolemaic  age  and  a  Copernican  age,  a 
system  of  Locke  and  a  system  of  Hegel,  a  theory  of  Darwin  and  a 
theory  of  Karl  Marx.  While  Darwin  was  in  the  ascendant  men 
thought  in  terms  of  evolutionary  biology;  Marx's  theory  of  eco- 
nomic materialism  and  the  class  struggle  is  today  an  infallible 
gospel  for  the  half-educated  and  ignorant  men  and  women  who  try 
to  philosophize  on  the  problems  of  labor  and  capital. 

In  all  this  there  is  no  real  ground  for  alarm  or  even  anxiety. 
The  phenomenon  is  not  unfamiliar  to  the  historian.  What  is  hap- 
pening is  that  a  class  hitherto  inadequately  recognized  is  asserting 
its  power  and  its  rights.  That  class  calls  itself  "labor" — a  lin- 
guistic monopoly  of  service  far  more  pardonable  than  the  maim- 
ing of  personality  implied  in  the  employer's  designation  of  "hands". 
And  if  in  asserting  its  own  rights  and  magnifying  its  own  services 
this  class  often  disregards  the  rights  and  services  of  other  classes 
and  shows  scant  concern  for  the  rational  and  spiritual  ends  of  life 
or  for  any  other  object  than  wages  and  manual  labor,  this  is  only  a 
narrowness  and  one-sidedness  born  of  the  ardor  of  strife  for  a  new 
cause. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  123 

Man  must,  it  is  true,  have  economic  goods  if  he  is  to  live.  And 
the  producers  of  those  goods  must  receive  in  the  future  a  larger 
measure  of  social  and  industrial  justice  than  they  have  enjoyed  in 
the  past.  No  result  of  the  Great  War  seems  to  me  more  certainly 
assured  than  this.  But  when  it  is  realized — and  you,  young  men 
and  women,  are  likely  to  witness  it — it  will  still  remain  true  that 
man  lives  not  by  bread  alone,  that  moral  and  political  and  intellec- 
tual and  spiritual  ends  are  all  higher  than  material  ends,  and  that  in 
the  state  we  are  all  members  one  of  another,  and  that  no  class  can 
be  permitted  to  exploit  others,  whether  the  exploiter  be  educated  or 
ignorant,  capitalist  or  wage-earner,  politician  or  private  citizen. 
Absolute  justice  is  the  supreme  law  of  the  state ;  equal  opportunity 
is  the  first  condition  of  industrial  democracy ;  reason  and  righteous- 
ness is  the  highest  end  of  the  life  of  man. 

THE  UNIVERSITY  AND  MATERIAL  PROSPERITY 

The  university  is  pre-eminently  the  organ  of  reason  and  knowl- 
edge. I  shall  have  more  to  say  on  that  subject  later.  At  present  I 
desire  to  call  attention  to  the  services  which  our  universities  have 
rendered  to  the  industrial  world.  From  the  beginning  of  univers- 
ities with  the  foundation  of  Bologna  and  Paris  in  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury to  the  present  time  European  universities  have  kept  themselves 
unsoiled  by  contact  with  manual  labor  and  machinery.  They  have 
been  schools  of  the  liberal  arts  and  sciences  and  of  law,  medicine, 
and  theology,  and  also  latterly  institutes  of  research.  But  in  the 
United  States  we  have  grafted  on  to  the  parent  stem  schools  of 
technology  and  agriculture,  so  that  workers  in  the  factoiies  and 
mines  and  on  the  farms  might  be  assisted  by  the  light  of  science 
which  for  centuries  had  illuminated  the  practice  of  the  lawyer,  the 
physician,  and  the  preacher.  The  university  has  thus  symbolized, 
and  at  the  same  time  ministered  to,  the  democracy  of  knowledge 
and  the  democracy  of  social  groups.  And  in  this  process  it  has 
kept  in  the  closest  touch  with  the  rising  tide  of  "labor".  Perhaps 
that  very  fact  gives  university  men  peculiar  qualifications  for  under- 
standing and  appreciating  the  new  demands  and  ideals  of  "labor". 

It  is  impossible  to  exaggerate  the  value  of  the  service  which 
our  universities  in  the  last  three  or  four  decades  have  rendered  to 
the  industries  of  the  country  and  in  the  last  two  decades  to  its 
agriculture.  The  public  have  taken  all  this  for  granted.  To  realize 
the  character  and  magnitude  of  this  service  let  us  for  a  moment 
imagine  that  our  schools  of  applied  science  had  never  come  into 


124  Indiana  University 

existence.  What  then  would  have  been  the  condition  of  our  in- 
dustries? Obviously  they  would  have  been  paralyzed  in  their 
higher  functions.  For  the  aim  of  modern  manufacturing,  or  of 
farming,  is  to  wrest  from  nature  her  resources  and  by  means  of 
nature's  powers  make  them  available  for  use  by  man.  But  we 
command  nature  only  by  obeying  her  laws.  Of  those  laws  science 
is  the  revelation.  In  the  absence,  therefore,  of  schools  of  applied 
sciences,  our  manufacturers  and  farmers,  and  transporters,  too, 
would  have  been  as  men  wandering  in  utter  darkness  and  attempt- 
ing to  perform  tasks  for  which  the  best  kind  of  illumination  was  an 
absolute  necessity. 

SCHOOLS  OF  APPLIED  SCIENCE 

I  recognize  the  pre-eminent  position  which  American  industry 
has  as  a  matter  of  fact  attained.  I  recognize  the  part  played  in  that 
splendid  development  by  the  initiative,  skill,  and  labor  of  the 
American  workman  and  the  courage,  enterprise,  and  organizing 
genius  of  the  American  capitalist.  But  the  public  makes  a  great 
mistake  in  stopping  at  this  stage  of  the  analysis.  There  is  another 
factor  equally  important  and  equally  indispensable.  That  factor 
is  the  enlargement  of  science  and  the  training  of  young  men  in  its 
application  to  the  production  and  transportation  of  economic  goods. 
This  immense  contribution  to  the  industries  of  America  is  the  work 
of  our  universities — and  practically  of  our  universities  alone.  If 
the  United  States  is  the  richest  and  most  prospeious  country  in  the 
world  the  universities  have  had  a  large  and  leading  part  in  the 
creation  of  that  wealth  and  prosperity. 

No  development  of  the  modern  university  in  America  has  been 
more  successful  than  the  schools  of  applied  science.  Wherever  they 
have  fallen  below  their  opportunity,  it  has  been  due  to  emphasis  on 
the  mechanical  arts  and  crafts  to  the  neglect  of  the  scientific  prin- 
ciples on  which  the  whole  mechanism  of  modern  industry  depends. 
Nothing  has  been  more  clearly  established  by  American  experience 
than  the  conclusion  that  if  you  want  to  give  a  young  man  the  best 
technical  education  you  must  steep  him  in  the  sciences  of  mathe- 
matics, physics,  mechanics,  chemistry,  and  biology  which  lie  at  the 
foundation  of  all  our  industrial  enterprises.  Drawing  and  manual 
training  and  shop-work  have  their  place  in  the  curriculum,  but  these 
exercises  for  the  training  of  hand  and  eye  can  never  take  the  place 
of  pure  science,  which  is  the  indispensable  food  for  the  nourish- 
ment of  the  technician's  mind. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  125 

The  technical  school  furnishes  a  professional  training  that 
ranks  it  with  the  older  schools  of  law  and  medicine,  which  in  this 
twentieth  century  have  also  made  great  progress  in  the  United 
States.  The  most  earnest  and  effective  educational  work  done 
amongst  us  in  the  last  quarter  of  a  century  has  been  done  in  these 
schools  and  in  the  graduate  schools  of  arts  and  science,  which  are 
also  in  effect  professional  schools.  The  explanation  is  twofold. 
First,  they  all  appeal  to  the  student's  interest  in  his  life  work.  And, 
secondly,  with  the  possible  exception  of  engineering,  the  students 
in  these  professional  schools  are  more  mature  both  in  years  and 
training  than  the  undergraduates  in  arts  and  science. 

THE  UNIVERSITY  AN  ORGAN  OF  THE  INTELLECTUAL  LIFE 

In  spite  of  this  seeming  paradox,  the  colleges  of  liberal  arts 
and  pure  science  are  nevertheless  the  heart  and  center  of  the 
American  university.  If  they  fail,  success  elsewhere  cannot  atone 
for  the  failure.  An  institution  that  consisted  of  a  group  of  even 
the  most  excellent  professional  schools  would  not,  however  desig- 
nated, satisfy  our  ideal  of  a  university.  The  most  essential  element, 
indeed,  would  be  wanting.  The  university  is  an  organ  for  the  de- 
velopment and  training  of  mind.  In  its  higher  functions  it  pre- 
supposes a  delight  in  ideas,  a  spontaneous  thirst  for  knowledge 
and  beauty,  a  disinterested  love  of  truth  for  its  own  sake.  It  pro- 
vides for  free  converse  of  the  mind  with  the  objects  on  which  it 
feeds  and  by  which  it  is  nourished.  It  takes  the  whole  life  of  man- 
kind for  its  province — what  man  has  done  and  suffered  and  achieved 
and  created  and  embodied  in  language,  thought,  literature,  and 
institutions.  And  the  mind  of  the  individual  grows  and  expands 
by  feeding  on  the  products  which  the  great  intelligences  of  the 
race  have  created.  His  sympathies  are  broadened,  his  emotions 
are  stirred,  his  imagination  is  kindled,  his  conscience  is  quickened 
and  purified,  his  understanding  is  illuminated  and  deepened,  his 
power  of  expression  is  multiplied,  and  the  once  passive  intelligence 
of  the  man  develops  into  an  independent,  active,  and  self-creative 
reason. 

Nor  is  this  all.  For  if  the  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man,  it 
can  never  be  his  exclusive  study  so  long  as  he  finds  himself  con- 
fronted by  an  objective  world  of  infinite  vastness  and  power  by 
which  his  life  is  so  profoundly  influenced  and  so  largely  controlled. 
That  intellectual  curiosity  which  leads  him  to  explore  the  life  and 
creations  of  the  human  race  challenges  the  mystery  of  Nature  and 


126  Indiana  University 

compels  her  to  give  up  her  secrets.  The  results  in  generalized  and 
systematic  form  are  what  we  call  science.  The  laws  of  nature  are 
crystallized  reason.  And  the  active  reason  of  man  can  therefore 
read  at  least  a  little  in  nature's  book  of  infinite  secrecy.  Is  it  sur- 
prising that  this  contact  of  human  intelligence  with  divine  intelli- 
gence latent  in  the  universe  should  react  on  the  inquirer  and 
educate  him?  And  is  it  not  obvious  that  such  education  would  be 
defeated  if  the  inquirer  were  actuated  by  any  other  motive  than 
the  pure  and  disinterested  love  of  truth?  If  his  object  is  practical 
utility  and  love  of  gain,  Nature  will  not  open  her  mysteries  to  him. 
Nor  could  he  be  rationally  educated  if  she  did. 

DEFECTS  OF  OUR  INTELLECTUAL  TRAINING 

If  the  development  of  the  rational  powers  of  man  is,  after 
goodness  and  justice,  the  supreme  end  of  life,  we  must  hold  that 
that  part  of  the  university  which  is  peculiarly  dedicated  to  that 
function  is  of  incomparable  importance  for  mankind.  Yet  our 
colleges  of  liberal  arts  and  sciences,  whether  in  the  undergraduate 
and  graduate  departments  of  the  universities  or  separate  institu- 
tions, do  not  hold  a  place  in  public  estimation  at  all  commensurate 
with  their  high  mission.  Nay,  we  must  go  further  and  confess  that, 
whatever  the  explanation,  the  results  achieved  by  these  colleges  fall 
far  below  the  plane  of  the  lofty  ideals  to  which  they  are  devoted. 
There  is  no  other  feature  in  the  whole  university  system  of  our 
country  which  is  so  disquieting,  so  alarming  even,  to  thoughtful 
educators.  Here  are  institutions  devoted  to  the  evoking  of  the 
highest  powers  of  human  intelligence.  And  I  fear  that  the  paucity 
of  the  scientists,  scholars,  thinkers,  and  poets  they  have  turned  out 
in  the  last  generation  is  proof  that  they  have  not  been  very  suc- 
cessful. 

It  is  easier  to  explain  the  failure  than  to  remedy  it.  As  water 
does  not  rise  higher  than  its  source,  the  level  of  thought  and  culture 
which  students  bring  to  the  universities  is  that  of  their  homes  and 
schools.  The  general  intelligence  of  the  American  people  is  higher 
than  that  of  Europe,  but  the  "high  spots"  of  Europe,  which  so 
largely  monopolize  the  universities,  are  higher  than  anything  with 
us.  It  is  a  part  of  our  democratic  sentiment  that  everybody  should 
enjoy  everything,  and  in  obedience  to  it  hosts  of  students  enter  our 
colleges  and  universities  with  no  special  aptitude  for,  or  call  to,  the 
intellectual  life.  Others  are  "sent"  by  loving  and  ambitious  parents 
perhaps  for  social  purposes  and  sometimes  with  no  conscious  object 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  127 

higher  than  that  of  qualification  for  admission  to  the  local  university 
club.  No  doubt  the  overwhelming  majority  of  parents  have  a 
genuine  appreciation  of  the  higher  education,  which  is  often  the 
more  movingly  accentuated  by  the  fact  that  many  of  them  are 
themselves  uneducated.  And  the  normal  American  boy,  if  not 
generally  animated  by  a  love  of  learning  or  caring  even  in  his  best 
moments  for  research,  nevertheless  has  a  high  and  loyal  regard  for  all 
American  institutions  and  takes  his  college  course  as  a  part  of  the 
best  possible  American  life.  The  alumni  and  alumnae  also  want 
their  sons  and  daughters  to  enjoy  the  educational  privileges  which 
fell  to  them.  And  perhaps  taxpayers  who  support  state  institutions 
are  the  more  insistent  on  that  account  that  their  sons  and  daughters 
shall  go  to  the  state  university. 

These  and  other  considerations  tend  to  fill  our  universities  with 
students  of  very  different  qualifications  from  those  selected  for  a 
higher  education  a  generation  ago.  The  country  has  become  rich 
and  prosperous,  and  no  advantage  shall  be  denied  to  the  rising  gen- 
eration which  money  can  purchase.  And  if  masses  of  people  still 
remain  poor,  by  self-help  and  thru  the  aid  of  scholarships  and 
loans  the  obstacles  which  poverty  puts  in  the  way  of  securing  the 
highest  education  may  be  largely  overcome.  The  universities, 
therefore,  will,  if  existing  conditions  remain  unchanged,  continue  to 
be  thronged  with  all  kinds  of  students.  All  divisions  of  the  uni- 
versity will  be  affected  by  the  character  of  this  student  body.  But 
for  obvious  reasons  the  menace  will  be  greatest  to  the  division  of 
liberal  arts  and  pure  science. 

THE  WAY  OF  REFORM 

It  is  especially  incumbent,  therefore,  on  our  faculties  of  arts 
and  science  to  consider  this  evil  and,  if  possible,  to  devise  a  remedy. 
And  their  task  will  not  be  an  easy  one  since  the  social  and  political 
conditions  which  in  part  create  the  danger  are  unalterable  or  can  be 
altered  only  by  the  passage  of  time  and  the  process  of  education. 
But  it  is  imperative  that  relief  be  obtained  if  our  universities  are 
not  to  undergo  deterioration  and  ultimate  decay.  The  faculty  of 
arts  and  science  is  the  natural  educational  leader  among  the  faculties, 
and  its  solution  of  this  grave  problem  is  pretty  certain  to  be 
adopted  by  the  professional  faculties,  in  so  far  as  the  need  exists. 

I  venture  one  constructive  suggestion,  which,  however,  is 
fundamental.  The  ideal  of  the  university  and  the  existing  reality 
must  be  brought  closer  together — and  that  not  by  diluting  the  ideal 


128  Indiana  University 

but  by  improving  the  reality.  As  I  have  already  said,  the  university 
is  an  organ  for  the  highest  development  of  the  human  mind  and 
reason.  It  is  no  place  for  those  who  are  not  above  everything 
else  interested  in  the  things  of  the  mind,  who  are  not  lovers  of  ideas, 
who  are  not  curious  to  know,  or  resolute  to  see  and  think  clearly. 
Those  to  whom  this  intellectual  life  makes  little  or  no  appeal  may 
be  excellent  fellows  and  well  fitted  for  other  activities,  but  they 
waste  their  years  at  the  university  and  they  hurt  the  institution  by 
dragging  down  the  level  of  its  work.  For  a  university  differs  from 
a  school  by  the  circumstance  that  it  aims  at  the  highest  intellectual 
development,  which  of  course  is  achieved  only  by  the  most  stren- 
uous intellectual  work. 

My  ideal  of  university  reform  is  theiefore  a  more  rigorous 
selection  of  students,  more  strenuous  and  robust  intellectual  work, 
the  prescription  of  severe  and  searching  annual  examinations  which 
shall  test  both  progress  in  scholarship  and  in  intellectual  develop- 
ment, and  the  grading  of  successful  candidates  in  first,  second,  and 
third  rank  with  the  ruthless  elimination  of  all  who  fail  to  reach  the 
required  standard.  The  present  term  examinations  are  not  only  too 
easy,  but  they  cover  too  short  a  period  of  time,  they  are  also  too 
scrappy;  and  they  treat  education  too  much  like  a  mechanical  com- 
bination of  separate  compartments  instead  of  an  organic  process  of 
stimulated  activity  and  growth.  By  this  or  some  similar  reform  we 
must  manage  to  reserve  the  universities  for  those  who  are  qualified 
by  natural  endowments,  by  previous  training,  and  by  industry  and 
serious  interest  to  profit  by  the  inestimable  privileges  of  intellectual 
development  which  they  offer  to  the  picked  youth  of  successive 
generations. 

Is  SUCH  REFORM  PRACTICABLE? 

Is  this  ideal  of  reform  a  counsel  of  perfection?  Will  the  legisla- 
latures  which  appropriate  funds  for  the  maintenance  of  our  state 
universities  denounce  this  test  of  intellectual  fitness  as  exclusive 
and  aristocratic  and  insist  that  their  universities  remain  open 
to  all  the  graduates  of  the  public  schools?  Will  the  privately  en- 
dowed colleges  and  universities  languish  for  funds  if  they  restrict 
themselves  to  educating  only  youth  endowed  with  superior  mental 
powers  and  animated  by  marked  intellectual  interests  and  ambitions 
who  devote  themselves  to  study  with  all  their  heart  and  mind  and 
strength? 

Perhaps  these  questions  will  be  answered  in  the  affirmative. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  129 

Perhaps  the  American  public  will  not  support  such  a  system  of  high 
class  universities  as  I  have  pictured.  But  no  one  can  make  me 
believe  that  the  most  intelligent  opinion  of  the  country  does  not 
recognize  the  necessity  of  such  institutions  both  for  the  highest 
education  of  our  youth  and  the  vitalizing  and  energizing  of  American 
civilization. 

There  is  also  one  step  which  the  existing  colleges  and  univeis- 
ities  might  take  in  the  direction  of  this  ideal.  They  might  exclude 
at  the  end  of  the  first  year,  not  merely  those  who  fail  in  the  term 
examination,  but  all  those  students  who  had  demonstrated  their 
obvious  incapacity  or  unfitness  for  the  intellectual  life.  There 
would  remain,  not  only  the  superior  but  also  the  average  and  the 
inferior  students.  These  should  be  set  off  in  different  groups,  the 
first  classification  being  into  honor  and  "pass"  students.  The 
"pass"  group  might  again  be  subdivided,  but  the  experience  of 
foreign  universities  shows  this  is  scarcely  necessary.  And  for  these 
groups  of  honor  and  "pass"  students  there  should  be  different 
curricula,  different  methods  of  instruction,  and,  if  practicable,  dif- 
ferent teachers.  For  the  honor  men  can  do  more  work  and  work 
more  independently,  while  the  "pass"  men  will  continue  to  need 
the  assignment  of  definite  lessons,  the  routine  of  daily  drill,  and  the 
constant  supervision  of  studies  which  in  the  view  of  the  layman  it  is 
the  sole  business  of  the  teacher  to  supply.  The  teaching  of  the 
honor  men,  certainly  of  the  best  of  the  honor  men,  will  be  dynamic 
and  inspiring ;  the  teaching  of  the  worst  of  the  "pass"  men  will  be  a 
depressing  task. 

THE  FACULTY  MAKES  THE  UNIVERSITY 

This  is  only  a  mitigation,  it  is  not  a  correction,  of  the  worst 
evil  which  oppresses  our  colleges  and  universities  at  the  present 
time.  One  would  like,  in  Hamlet's  words,  to  "reform  it  altogether". 
And,  since  a  university  is  a  community,  the  evil  can  be  eradicated 
only  by  changing  the  character  of  its  membership.  Now  the  mem- 
bers composing  a  university  are  teachers  and  students.  And  since 
the  professors  serve  the  students,  the  character  of  the  professors  will 
be  determined  by  the  nature  of  that  service.  But  the  American 
public  conceives  of  the  essential  function  of  a  professor  as  the 
instruction  of  students,  and  especially  of  the  throng  of  "pass"  stu- 
dents who  nowadays  frequent  our  universities.  The  professor  is 
above  all  else  to  be  a  drill-master  and  pedagog!  And  so  long  as 
"pass"  men  dominate,  as  they  now  dominate,  the  student  body  of 


130  Indiana  University 

our  universities,  this  conception  of  the  American  professor  is  likely 
to  persist.  And  if  our  faculties  are  recruited  from  this  type  of  pro- 
fessor and  instructor,  the  scholar  and  investigator  animated  by 
celestial  fire  is  alienated  from  the  university  which  is  his  natural 
home.  If  this  process  of  deterioration  has  not  gone  farther  in 
America,  it  is  because  wise  university  presidents  and  their  intel- 
lectual colleagues  in  the  faculties  have  resisted  the  process  of  natural 
causation  and  at  least  delayed  the  otherwise  inevitable  consumma- 
tion. 

The  faculty  makes  the  university.  A  great  university  is  an 
assemblage  of  great  scholars,  scientists,  investigators,  and  writers. 
It  is  a  place  where  the  lamps  of  learning  are  kept  burning  and 
aglow,  where  men  are  curious  to  know  and  tireless  in  investigating, 
where  intellectual  life  is  restlessly  active,  where  new  ideas  are 
sought  more  than  hidden  treasure.  In  such  a  place,  encompassed 
by  such  an  atmosphere,  youth  of  intellectual  interests  and  ambi- 
tion are  caught  up  as  it  were  in  a  flame  of  fire  and  transported  to  the 
seventh  heaven.  Education  for  them  is  participation  in  that  throb- 
bing intellectual  life  and  activity. 

THE  MENACE  To  THE  PROFESSORIATE 

In  a  true  university  all  the  members  are  intellectually  alert. 
American  universities  are  overwhelmed  with  undergraduates  who 
are  intellectually  inert.  The  inevitable  tendency  is  the  deteriora- 
tion of  the  professoriate. 

But  that  is  not  the  only  cause  which  is  affecting  unfavorably 
the  quality  of  our  college  and  university  faculties.  The  public 
renders  lip  homage  to  education,  but  it  pays  the  men  who  train  the 
mind  less  than  the  men  who  mind  the  trains.  To  the  dreadful 
irksomeness  of  drilling  indifferent  and  uninterested  students  is  added 
the  terror  of  destitution  for  the  wife  and  children  every  normal 
young  man  dreams  of  and  hopes  one  day  to  call  his  own.  Thus  the 
poets  and  thinkers  and  scholars  and  scientists  whom  Providence 
meant  us  to  have  we  are  driving  from  their  natural  homes  in  the 
universities  and  forcing  into  commercial  and  mechanical  pursuits 
merely  that  they  may  find  suitable  clothing,  food,  and  shelter. 

Sure,  he  that  made  us  with  such  large  discourse, 
Looking  before  and  after,  gave  us  not 
That  capability  and  god-like  reason 
To  rust  in  us  unused. 

The  waste  of  intellect  now  going  on  in  America  is  inconceiv- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  131 

able.  Somehow  we  must  make  our  universities  the  hearth  and 
home  of  the  talent  and  genius  of  the  country.  It  is  born  in  all 
classes,  poor  and  rich  alike.  Can  we  not  provide  better  means  of 
discovering  it  and  of  attracting  it  from  the  shops  and  factories  and 
farms  and  country  homes  where  it  now  lacks  opportunity  for 
service? 

At  any  rate  let  us  hold  on  to  what  we  get  under  the  present 
system,  and  utilize  it  to  the  highest  potency  for  quickening  the  intel- 
lectual life  of  the  nation.  We  are  not  doing  that  today.  The 
duty  of  teaching  the  throng  of  mediocre  students  that  come  to  the 
universities  absorbs  the  energy  of  the  faculty,  and  the  professor  who 
might  become  a  great  writer  or  investigator  is  given  no  time  or  left 
with  no  energy  for  that  higher  function.  Yet  the  discovery  of  one 
new  law  or  principle  in  a  university  laboratory,  such  as  has  been 
made  in  the  past,  might  do  more  even  for  the  material  welfare  of 
mankind  than  the  activity  of  all  the  legislators,  statesmen,  and 
financiers  who  now  monopolize  the  attention  of  the  world.  One  im- 
provement, even  under  our  present  system,  is  not,  I  think,  im- 
practicable. We  might  have  professorships,  with  very  light  teaching 
duties — for  I  would  prescribe  some  teaching — open  to  men  and 
women  who  gave  assured  promise,  or  who  had  demonstrated 
capacity,  of  successfully  undertaking  original  research  or  productive 
scholarship.  On  this  point  I  cannot  do  better  than  quote  from 
the  speech  of  Professor  Bjerknes  of  the  chair  of  mechanics  and 
mathematical  physics  in  the  University  of  Stockholm  in  a  speech 
delivered  in  New  York  City  a  few  years  ago: 

I  have  been  impressed  with  the  material  equipment  of  your  universities,  with 
your  splendid  buildings,  with  the  fine  instruments  you  have  placed  in  them,  and 
with  the  enthusiasm  of  the  men  I  have  found  at  work  there.  But  I  hope  you  will 
pardon  me,  gentlemen,  for  saying,  as  I  must  say,  that,  when  I  found  you  attempting 
serious  investigation  with  the  remnants  of  energy  left  after  your  excessive  teaching 
and  administrative  work,  I  could  not  help  thinking  you  did  not  appreciate  the 
fact  that  the  finest  instruments  in  those  buildings  are  your  brains.  I  heard  one 
of  you  counsel  his  colleagues  to  care  for  the  astronomical  instruments  lest  these 
become  strained  and  cease  to  give  true  results.  Allow  me  to  substitute  brain  for 
telescope,  and  to  exhort  you  to  care  for  your  brains.  I  have  been  astonished  to 
find  that  some  of  you,  in  addition  to  much  executive  work,  teach  from  ten  to  fifteen 
and  even  more  hours  per  week.  I  myself  teach  two  hours  per  week,  and  I  can 
assure  you  that,  if  I  had  been  required  to  do  so  much  of  it  as  you  do,  you  never 
would  have  invited  me  to  lecture  here  in  a  difficult  branch  of  science.  That, 
gentlemen,  is  the  most  important  message  I  can  leave  with  you. 


132  Indiana  University 

BERLIN  UNIVERSITY  IN  1879-80 

In  other  European  countries  also — in  England,  France,  and 
Italy  (to  mention  only  the  large  Allied  Powers) — the  same  con- 
ception of  the  professor's  office  and  function  prevails.  His  fine 
talents  and  high  training  are  not,  as  with  us,  used  and  exhausted  in 
the  tasks  of  the  pedagog  and  drill-master.  No  nation  had  given 
more  intelligent  consideration  to  this  subject  than  Germany.  And 
before  the  German  universities  were  captured  by  the  government 
and  converted  into  agencies  of  domestic  and  foreign  propaganda,  no 
nation  had  more  efficient  universities  or  more  illustrious  scholars 
and  scientists.  I  knew  them  personally  before  the  process  of 
deterioration  set  in.  I  enjoyed  the  honor  of  acquaintance  and  social 
intercourse,  and  even  friendship,  with  some  of  their  most  distin- 
guished members.  I  recall  glorious  days  and  nights  at  Heidel- 
berg, where  I  first  learned  German,  and  later  at  Goettingen  and 
Berlin,  forty  years  ago.  Consider  only  the  University  of  Berlin  in 
the  winter  of  1879-80.  In  the  faculty  were  Mommsen,  Helmholtz, 
Zeller,  Du  Bois-Reymond,  Paulsen,  and  others  of  world-wide  repu- 
tation. Nearly  all  these  I  not  only  met  in  the  classroom  but  knew 
socially,  some  of  them  quite  intimately  in  their  own  homes.  It  was 
a  great  galaxy  of  scholars,  thinkers,  and  scientific  discoverers. 
But  the  high  functions  which  they  performed  for  Germany  and  for 
the  world  were  rendered  possible  by  immunity  from  drudgery  in 
university  classrooms,  by  concentration  in  seminars  upon  the  ablest 
students,  by  freedom  to  pursue  their  own  special  lines  of  investiga- 
tion, and  by  reducing  the  small  number  of  weekly  hours  given  to 
lecturing,  or  even  omitting  them  altogether,  when  the  claims  of 
research  were  most  pressing.  At  times  Helmholtz  was  entirely 
absorbed  in  his  laboratory  experiments  and  new  discoveries  in 
physics ;  Mommsen  would  be  off  to  Rome  to  gather  new  materials 
for  his  history;  and  Zeller  and  Paulsen,  if  they  were  regular  in  their 
university  duties,  combined  them  with  the  demands  of  their  own 
unintermitted  research  and  publication.  Nowhere  in  the  world  was 
there  a  better  realization  of  the  ideal  of  a  university  as  an  organ  for 
the  maintenance  and  advancement  of  the  intellectual  life  of  man- 
kind. 

If  you  will  pardon  the  digression  I  should  like  also  to  recall  an- 
other figure  of  those  far-off  days.  I  attended  some  of  von  Treit- 
schke's  lectures,  in  the  large  auditorium  of  the  university,  to  mixed 
audiences  of  students  and  officers  and  civilians.  The  consolidation 
of  the  new  Geiman  Empire  had  only  just  begun — its  marked  fea- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  133 

ture  being  the  process  of  centralization  at  Berlin — so  that  there  was 
then  no  question  of  Germany  against  the  rest  of  the  world  but 
merely  of  Prussia  against  the  other  German  states  and  especially 
those  of  the  south.  Von  Treitschke  was  intensely  pro-Prussian. 
His  glorification  of  Prussia  was  resented  by  auditors  from  other 
German  states.  But  I  recall  no  other  criticism  which  his  lectures 
provoked.  Von  Treitschke  prepared  us  for  the  Prussianization  of 
Germany,  for  the  beginnings  of  centralization  were  already  in 
evidence.  But  who  could  have  dreamt  that  in  the  short  span  of 
thirty-five  years  the  ideas  von  Treitschke  championed  would  have 
brought  Germany  into  collision  with  the  world,  entailing  her  down- 
fall as  a  great  European  power,  and  overwhelming  her  with  terrible 
hardships  and  with  disasters  unparalleled? 

AMERICAN  UNIVERSITIES  BEHIND  EUROPEAN 

From  this  digression  I  hasten  to  return  to  our  American  uni- 
versities. We  must  instruct  the  public  as  to  what  the  university 
essentially  stands  for  in  American  life  and  civilization,  we  must 
eradicate  from  their  minds  the  idea  that  it  is  a  glorified  high  school. 
We  must  teach  them  that  it  is  an  arena  for  the  highest  intellectual 
effort.  We  must  show  them  that  it  is  a  place  of  the  noblest  culture 
and  the  finest  reason.  We  must  convince  them  that  the  highest 
education  is  not  only  the  privilege  of  the  intellectually  fit  but  an 
impossibility  for  the  intellectually  unfit.  And  above  all  we  must 
compel  them  to  recognize  the  fundamental  principle  that  there 
never  can  be  a  great  university  without  great  professors,  and  that 
great  professors  are  the  product  of  superior  mental  endowment, 
high  and  strenuous  training,  and  a  life  of  free,  fresh,  and  energetic 
devotion  to  the  pursuit  of  truth  and  culture. 

Till  America  learns  and  practices  this  lesson  its  universities 
are  destined  to  lag  behind  those  of  Europe.  America,  it  is  often 
said — said  sometimes  in  astonishment  and  sometimes  as  a  reproach 
— America  has  not  contributed  her  share  to  the  civilization  of  the 
modern  world.  We  are  told  that  our  literatuie,  our  art,  our  phi- 
losophy, our  science  are  none  of  them  first  class.  I  do  not  think 
we  can  rebut  this  criticism.  And,  what  is  worse,  I  do  not  see  how 
we  can  escape  it  until  we  have  places  for  the  training  of  thinkers 
and  scholars  and  scientists  and  artists.  And  our  universities 
cannot  now  perform  this  essential  function  efficiently  for  obvious 
reasons.  In  the  first  place,  they  are  overrun  with  throngs  of 
mediocre,  indifferent,  and  half-trained  students.  In  the  second 


134  Indiana  University 

place,  the  energy  of  teachers  is  exhausted  in  the  drudgery  of  train- 
ing these  young  men  and  women,  who  might  do  vastly  more  for 
themselves  and  for  the  community  if  engaged  in  more  congenial 
and  more  suitable  pursuits.  In  the  third  place,  the  tendency  is 
unavoidable  to  recruit  our  faculties  largely  with  men  adapted  to 
the  performance  of  the  drill-master's  task,  which  has  become  the 
major  function  of  the  institutions.  And,  fourthly,  the  professo- 
riate falling  thus  into  disesteem  both  socially  and  professionally,  the 
compensation  has  declined  below  that  of  the  mechanical  vocations. 
I  recognize  that  we  cannot  change  the  fundamental  conditions 
of  American  society.  But  I  believe  the  American  people  want 
universities  second  to  none  in  the  world,  and  will  be  willing  to 
furnish  the  means  necessary  for  their  support.  Towards  the  reali- 
zation of  this  high  ideal  I  believe  the  most  helpful  first  step  would 
be  the  grading  of  our  students  and  concentration  of  effort  on  the 
ablest  and  most  devoted  among  them.  But  even  before  that  reform 
it  will  be  necessary  to  provide  that  men  of  high  intellectual  power, 
thoro  training,  and  productive  capacity  shall  be  encouraged  to 
devote  themselves  to  the  university  career  by  the  assurance  of  lei- 
sure for  the  application  of  their  powers,  in  all  the  fullness  of  fresh 
energy,  to  the  highest  creative  work  as  scholars,  thinkers,  and  inves- 
tigators. 

THE  UNIVERSITY  AND  MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  TRAINING 

I  have  been  speaking  of  the  university  as  essentially  an  organ 
of  the  intellectual  life  of  mankind.  But  I  have  also  shown  that  the 
discovery  of  scientific  truth  has  an  incalculable  utilitarian  value 
for  the  practical  life  of  individuals  and  nations, — the  application 
of  science  to  industry  having  indeed  contributed  more  than  any- 
thing else  whatever  to  their  enrichment  and  to  the  comforts,  con- 
veniences, and  even  the  luxuries  of  the  modern  world.  But  the 
aims  of  education  are  not  exhausted  by  these  achievements  in  both 
the  rational  and  the  material  spheres  of  human  life.  For  man  also 
is  a  moral,  spiritual,  and  political  being;  and  the  university,  if  it 
is  to  train  the  whole  man,  must  endeavor  to  make  good  men  and 
good  citizens,  and  especially  to  train  select  youth  for  leadership 
in  that  great  and  promising  field  of  moral,  social,  political,  and 
economic  service  which  is  already  white  unto  harvest. 

Practical  moral  and  religious  training  is  to  be  accomplished 
at  the  university  less  by  formal  instruction  in  the  classroom  than 
by  the  example  of  teachers  devoted  to  high  ends,  living  honorable 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  135 

lives,  and  conscientiously  spending  themselves  for  the  improve- 
ment of  their  students  and  the  promotion  of  the  things  that  are 
true  and  honorable  and  lovely  and  of  good  report.  I  do  not  under- 
estimate, on  the  contrary  I  highly  appreciate  and  would  do  my 
ulmost  to  encourage,  the  ministrations  of  preachers  and  other 
religious  teachers  and  workers.  The  only  point  I  am  now  concerned 
to  emphasize  is  that  all  those  moral  and  spiritual  agencies  are  most 
effective  in  their  practical  influence  on  individual  students  when 
voluntary  and  dissociated  from  the  official  life  and  work  of  the 
university. 

I  shall  not  discuss  the  training  of  religious  leaders,  because 
owing  to  the  variety  of  our  religious  denominations  this  function 
is  generally  performed  in  their  respective  theological  schools.  If 
I  might  presume  to  offer  them  a  suggestion  it  would  be  to  recom- 
mend a  reorganization  of  the  curriculum  with  the  elimination  of 
mere  traditional  subjects  and  the  introduction  of  courses  by  com- 
petent experts  dealing  with  the  moral,  social,  and  economic  environ- 
ment of  modern  humanity. 

THE  UNIVERSITY  AS  SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  TEACHER 

The  life  of  man  in  society  and  the  state  is  perhaps  the  most 
vital  subject  of  contemporary  thought  and  interest.  As  in  the 
seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries  the  greatest  thinkers  of  the 
world  gave  themselves  up  to  mathematical  and  physical  research, 
and  in  the  nineteenth  to  biological,  so  in  the  twentieth  century  they 
are  turning  to  man — and  especially  to  man  as  a  social  and  political 
being — exploring  his  nature,  investigating  the  institutions  he  has 
established,  and  assessing  their  value  both  in  the  scale  of  efficiency 
and  by  the  standard  of  right  and  justice.  Our  science  has  hitherto 
been  almost  altogether  naturalistic ;  it  seems  now  destined  to  become 
humanistic  also.  You  students  are  likely  to  see  subjects  like  ethics, 
history,  economics,  politics,  and  sociology  quickened  with  a  new 
interest  and  invested  with  a  new  significance.  They  have  become 
essential  for  the  intelligent  understanding  of  the  institutional  organ- 
ization of  our  lives  and  for  the  correct  appraisal  of  the  challenges 
today  made  upon  it,  both  at  home  and  abroad,  with  ever-increasing 
emphasis  and  sometimes  even  with  an  unwonted  accompaniment 
of  hostility  and  revolutionary  menace. 

Many  good  people  are  perturbed.  Some  tremble  for  the  ark 
of  the  Lord.  And  our  rulers,  it  would  seem,  know  no  remedy 
but  force  and  suppression. 


136  Indiana  University 

O  ye  of  little  faith!  Cannot  error  be  overcome  by  truth? 
Nay,  can  anything  else  overcome  it?  Shall  we  cower  in  the  pres- 
ence of  revolutionary  Socialism  and  Bolshevism  when  we  might 
learn  from  history  and  politics  that  our  own  system  of  Constitu- 
tional Democracy  is  the  best  government  ever  devised  by  the  art  of 
man?  No  doubt  like  every  growing  organism  it  is  in  need  of  con- 
tinuous adjustment  to  its  environment;  but  are  we  so  blinded  by 
ignorance  and  so  perverted  by  Bourbonism  that  we  cannot  survey 
these  natural  .and  necessary  modifications,  whose  effect  is  altogether 
ameliorating,  with  the  equanimity  and  even  the  satisfaction  of 
reasonable  beings  and  good  Americans?  Because  nations  with  the 
worst  government  imaginable  have  in  this  terrible  crisis  in  the  history 
of  the  world  become  political  madhouses,  must  we  with  the  best 
of  actual  governments  lose  our  heads  and  join  in  their  grimaces  and 
contortions? 

Let  us  possess  our  souls  in  confidence.  Let  us  put  our  trust 
in  truth.  Let  us  speak  the  words  of  soberness.  Let  us  trust  the 
sound  sense  of  the  American  people.  Let  us  meet  the  folly  and 
errors  of  the  fanatics  with  the  all-conquering  weapons  of  fact  and 
reason.  If  the  Bolsheviks  rule  Russia  by  force  and  murder,  let 
America,  now  as  heretofore,  govern  herself  by  free  discussion  and 
enlightened  public  opinion  and  the  deliberate  vote  of  the  majority. 
Our  laws  must  of  course  be  enforced,  and  sedition  rigorously  put 
down.  But  America  cannot  save  her  soul  by  stifling  free  thought 
and  inquiry  or  by  deporting  ark-loads  of  alien  revolutionists  or 
denying  constitutional  rights  to  radical  and  even  mischievous  citi- 
zens and  parties. 

THE  PROMISE  OF  SOCIAL  REFORM 

The  university  stands  for  truth.  It  is  today  summoned,  as  it 
never  has  been  summoned  before,  to  the  exploration  and  propaga- 
tion of  truth  in  the  fields  of  economics  and  politics.  Our  Bourbons, 
who  put  their  trust  in  force,  would  even  muzzle  the  universities 
lest  they  should  discover  some  scientific  warrant  for  changes  in 
the  order  of  our  institutional  life. 

Changes  are  inevitable  because  the  world  moves  and  the  reali- 
zation of  justice  in  society  is  a  continuous  and  unending  process. 
We  shall  find  in  the  future  means  of  improving  our  existing  insti- 
tutions at  many  points.  There  will  be  better  and  juster  methods 
of  taxation;  property  will  be  more  widely  diffused  and  more  equally 
distributed  and  the  power  of  wealth  curtailed  and  pauperism 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  137 

largely  eliminated ;  public  service  will  cease  to  be  the  arena  and 
the  means  of  private  profit;  equalization  of  opportunity  will  be- 
come a  fact  and  not  merely  a  shibboleth ;  education  will  be  provided 
for  the  children  in  the  country  not  inferior  to  that  now  offered 
in  city  schools;  youth  of  talent  in  all  economic  groups  will  be 
selected  and  given  the  highest  possible  education;  spiritual  and 
intellectual  callings  will  not  rank  lower  than  mechanical  and  indus- 
trial pursuits;  and  government,  more  democratic  than  ever,  will 
be  no  longer  a  reckless  strife  of  parties  but  an  intelligent  and  busi- 
ness-like ordering  of  the  public  life  of  the  community  and  a  um'on 
with  other  civilized  communities  for  the  promotion  of  peace  and 
good-will  and  prosperity  thruout  the  world. 

There  are  vast  and  unimagined  possibilities  for  the  future  of 
the  race.  We  can  foresee  not  only  better  health  and  increased 
prosperity  for  mankind,  but,  what  is  more  important,  nobler 
character  and  higher  reason  and  finer  culture  both  for  individuals 
and  entire  communities  and  their  organization  in  juster  and  more 
perfect  commonwealths.  There  are  many  agencies  at  work  in  the 
world  contributory  to  that  great  consummation.  But  I  speak  alike 
with  moderation  and  profound  conviction  when  I  say  that  the 
university,  as  the  organ  of  truth  and  knowledge,  is  by  far  the 
most  important  and  assuredly  the  rnx>st  promising. 

THE  GROWTH  OF  INDIANA  UNIVERSITY 

For  such  service  to  the  state  and  to  mankind  Indiana  Univer- 
sity was  chartered  one  hundred  years  ago  today.  Already  the 
memorable  ordinance  of  1785  had  reserved  the  sixteenth  section  of 
every  township  of  public  land  "for  the  maintenance  of  public  schools 
within  said  township",  and  declared  that  "religion,  morality  and 
knowledge  being  necessary  to  good  government  and  the  happiness 
of  mankind,  schools  and  the  means  of  education  shall  be  forever 
encouraged". 

The  enabling  act  of  Congress  authorizing  the  formation  of  a 
state  government  for  Indiana  contained,  among  other  items,  the 
grant  of  an  entire  township  to  be  designated  by  the  President  of 
the  United  States  for  the  use  of  a  seminary  of  learning.  The 
convention  which  framed  the  constitution  under  which  Indiana  was 
admitted  as  a  state  accepted  the  grants  of  Congress  and  pledged 
that  the  ordinance  should  forever  remain  irrevocable  and  inviolate, 
thus  obligating  the  state  to  cherish  and  sustain  the  institution  thus 
founded.  This  same  convention,  as  further  endorsement  of  the 


138  Indiana  University 

broad  plan,  declared  in  the  constitution  (article  9,  section  2)  thai 
"it  shall  be  the  duty  of  the  General  Assembly  as  soon  as  circum- 
stances will  permit,  to  provide  by  law  for  a  general  system  of  edu- 
cation, ascending  in  regular  gradation  from  township  schools  to  a 
state  university,  wherein  t^tion  shall  be  gratis,  and  equally  open 
to  all".  This  constitution  was  adopted  in  1816.  And  on  January 
20,  1820,  the  General  Assembly  took  the  first  definite  step  toward 
the  establishment  of  Indiana  University.  It  was  opened  in  1824 
under  the  name  of  the  Indiana  Seminary,  with  one  instructor  and 
ten  pupils,  and  the  only  subjects  taught  were  Latin  and  Greek. 
It  was  raised  to  the  dignity  of  a  college  in  1828,  and  in  1838  the 
General  Assembly  conferred  upon  it  the  name  and  style  of  Indiana 
University. 

The  growth  of  the  University  was  for  many  years  slow.  Up 
to  1850  the  maximum  annual  attendance  was  115.  And  it  did  not 
reach  200  prior  to  1884.  It  was  321  in  1890.  And  since  that  date 
the  decennial  figures  indicate  great  and  rapid  expansion.  In  1900 
the  enrollment  was  1,016;  it  mounted  to  2,564  in  1910;  and  now  in 
1920  it  is  nearly  4,000. 

This  enlargement  of  the  student  body  and  the  consequent  mul- 
tiplication of  courses  has  created  for  Indiana  University  the  same 
problem  as  now  oppresses  the  universities  generally  of  the  United 
States.  Your  enrollment  has  risen  from  321  in  1890  to  nearly 
4,000  in  1920.  But  your  teachers  here  in  Bloomington,  where  the 
vast  majority  of  these  students  receive  their  instruction,  number 
only  129  in  1920  as  against  28  in  1890. 

THE  CRISIS  FOR  AMERICAN  UNIVERSITIES 

I  am  sure  that  President  Bryan,  who  has  played  such  a  large 
and  honorable  part  in  building  up  the  University,  will  agree  with 
me  that  Indiana  and  along  with  Indiana  the  entire  sisterhood  of 
American  universities  and  colleges  now  face  the  gravest  situation 
in  their  history.  Fundamentally  it  is  a  question  of  the  possibility 
of  realizing  and  maintaining  in  America  the  ideal  of  a  genuine 
university.  I  have  endeavored  to  make  clear  what  that  ideal  is 
and  to  indicate  the  perils  by  which  it  is  menaced.  The  university  is 
the  organ  of  the  intellectual  life  of  mankind.  Its  essential  con- 
stituent is  a  faculty  devoted  to  the  things  of  the  mind  and  competent 
to  promote  them  by  research  and  inspiration  and  instruction.  This 
function  demands  the  best  brains  with  which  Providence  endows 
mankind.  Two  causes,  however,  are  today  operating  to  deter  the 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  139 

ablest  youth  from  entering  on  a  university  career.  One  is  the 
insufficiency  of  the  provision  made  for  professorial  support  which 
drives  ambitious  and  talented  young  men  who  are  attracted  to  the 
intellectual  life  against  their  will  into  callings  that  offer  them  at 
least  an  adequate  livelihood.  The  other  is  the  lowering  of  the 
standards  of  university  teaching  in  the  effort  to  educate  the  masses 
of  mediocre  students  who  frequent  the  universities  and  the  undue 
limiting  for  the  same  reason  of  the  time  and  mental  energy  which 
the  teacher  may  devote  to  independent  scholarship  and  research. 
Unless  we  make  and  keep  our  universities  genuine  laboratories  of 
creative  intellectual  work  they  will  sink  to  the  level  of  pedagogical 
institutes.  Their  salvation  lies  in  able,  well-trained,  and  intellect- 
ually alert  professors  with  adequate  provision  for  creative  work 
on  the  part  of  all  who  are  competent  to  undertake  it. 

THE  FUTURE  OF  AMERICAN  UNIVERSITIES 

I  have  set  forth  with  the  utmost  frankness  the  grave  and  even 
dangerous  situation  in  which  our  universities  today  find  themselves. 
A  thoro  knowledge  of  the  evil  is  essential  to  reform.  But  let 
no  one  imagine  because  I  have  diagnosed  the  disease  that  I  have 
any  doubt  of  our  ability  to  expel  it.  On  the  contrary,  I  have 
supreme  faith  in  the  ultimate  soundness  and  vitality  of  the  Ameri- 
can university. 

There  are  two  considerations  in  particular  that  strengthen  my 
faith  and  inspire  my  confidence.  And  with  this  personal  confes- 
sion I  will  close. 

In  the  first  place,  the  order  of  all  development,  cosmic  as  well 
as  human,  is  first  that  which  is  natural,  and  next  that  which  is 
spiritual.  Hitherto  we  have  been  largely  engaged  in  laying  the 
material  foundations  of  American  universities.  We  have  provided 
them  with  spacious  grounds;  with  numerous  buildings,  large  and 
useful,  if  not  generally  beautiful;  with  well  appointed  laboratories, 
well  stocked  libraries,  and  all  kinds  of  equipment  and  illustrative 
material.  I  do  not  think  any  country  in  the  world  has  ever  before 
laid  such  solid  and  elaborate  foundations  for  a  system  of  univer- 
sities. Good  use,  too,  has  been  made  of  these  establishments  by  the 
professors  in  charge.  It  is  at  once  in  harmony  with  the  embryonic 
character  of  the  institutions  and  with  the  practical  talent  and  inter- 
est of  the  American  people  that  their  most  conspicuous  achieve- 
ments should  hitherto  have  been  displayed  in  the  field  of  applied 
science.  This,  however,  is  the  media  via  from  the  natural  to  the 


140  Indiana  University 

spiritual.  And  so  I  confidently  anticipate  the  time  when  the  energy 
which  our  people  have  hitherto  put  forth  in  establishing  securely 
the  foundations  of  their  universities  will  be  concentrated  upon, 
and  applied  to,  the  intellectual  and  spiritual  objects  for  the  sake 
of  which  they  exist.  And  when  that  day  arrives  the  Archimedean 
boast,  "give  me  leverage  and  I  will  move  the  world",  may  become 
a  sober  fact  in  the  history  of  human  civilization. 

THE  SPIRITUAL  AND  INTELLECTUAL  RENASCENCE  OF  AMERICA 

In  the  second  place,  I  have  an  ineradicable  faith  in  the  ideal- 
ism of  the  American  people.  No  doubt  we  are  a  practical  people, 
and  we  delight  in  turning  material  things  to  human  uses.  We  have 
a  high  opinion  of  the  value  of  mere  physical  comfort — of  good 
clothes,  good  houses,  and  good  food  (tho  Europeans  consider 
us  deficient  in  the  art  of  cookery).  Our  manufacturers  are  enter- 
prising, our  traders  shrewd,  and  our  people  generally  want  to  make 
money,  which  is  a  thing  that  can  be  turned  at  any  time  into  any 
kind  of  economic  goods.  Our  environment,  too,  has  stimulated 
the  development  of  these  practical  talents  and  interests.  For  we 
have  been  called  upon  to  subdue  a  hostile  continent  and  make  it 
safe  for  human  habitation  and  generous  for  human  subsistence. 

But  this  work  is  now  completed.  The  American  people  are  at 
last  free  to  gratify  their  native  idealism.  I  believe  that  with  all 
their  practicality  they  are  one  of  the  most  idealistic  nations  in  the 
world.  At  times  they  carry  idealism  to  the  very  verge  of  senti- 
mentality. In  great  crises  of  their  history — in  the  Civil  War  and 
in  the  recent  World  War — they  have  exhibited,  and  been  sus- 
tained by,  the  noblest  idealism.  Now  at  the  heart's  core  of  all 
American  ideals  is  a  profound  belief  in  the  value  of  education  and 
a  devotion  to  it  which  overcomes  all  obstacles  and  endures  every 
sacrifice.  Witness  the  great  words  of  the  constitution  of  your 
infant  state  demanding  "a  general  system  of  education  in  a  regular 
gradation  from  township  schools  to  a  state  university". 

The  day  for  the  realization  of  the  educational  ideal  of  the 
American  people  has  arrived.  I  appreciate  to  the  full  the  magni- 
tude and  urgency  of  the  economic  and  political  tasks  to  which  the 
new  age  calls  us.  But  above  all  other  voices  I  hear  the  angels 
of  our  higher  nature  summon  us  to  a  spiritual  and  intellectual 
renascence  of  America. 


RESEARCHES  ON  SPIROCHAETA 
PALLIDA 


Aldred  Scott  Warthin  was  born  in  Greensburg,  Indiana,  October  21,  1866. 
He  received  the  A.B.  degree  at  Indiana  University  in  1888;  the  A.M.  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Michigan  in  1890,  the  M.D.  in  1891,  and  the  Ph.D.  in  1893;  and  a 
teacher's  music  diploma  at  the  Cincinnati  Conservatory  of  Music  in  1887.  In 
addition,  he  did  postgraduate  work  in  medicine  at  Vienna,  Munich,  Dresden, 
and  Freiburg.  In  1891,  he  became  assistant  in  internal  medicine  at  the 
University  of  Michigan,  and  the  next  year  demonstrator  in  internal  medicine, 
which  position  he  held  for  three  years.  In  1896  he  became  demonstrator  in 
pathology;  in  1897,  instructor;  assistant  professor  in  1899;  junior  professor  in 
1902;  professor  and  director  of  the  pathological  laboratory  since  1903.  Among 
the  societies  in  which  he  has  held  office  at  various  times  are :  American  Associa- 
tion of  Pathologists  and  Bacteriologists,  president,  1908;  International  Associa- 
tion of  Medical  Museums,  president,  1910-13;  member  of  council  for  the  United 
States  in  this  same  society,  1914-20;  vice-president  of  its  American  section,  1914; 
Michigan  Association  for  the  Prevention  and  Relief  of  Tuberculosis,  secretary, 
1907;  president,  1908-9;  Michigan  Social  Hygiene  Association,  president,  1917- 
20;  Ann  Arbor  Anti-Tuberculosis  Association,  secretary;  International  Associa- 
tion for  Study  and  Prevention  of  Tuberculosis,  corresponding  member.  He  is 
a  member  of  Phi  Beta  Kappa,  Sigma  Xi,  The  Association  of  American  Physicians, 
and  The  Society  for  Experimental  Medicine  and  Biology.  Dr.  Warthin  is  the 
author  of  Practical  Pathology,  editor  and  translator  of  Ziegler's  General  Pathology, 
the  author  of  General  Pathology  and  Medical  Aspects  of  Mustard  Gas  Poisoning, 
and  of  over  one  hundred  articles  in  medical  journals  and  textbooks.  He  was  the 
editor  of  the  Bulletin  of  the  International  Association  of  Medical  Museums  from 
1913  to  1919,  and  editor  of  the  department  of  pathology  in  the  second  and  third 
editions  of  Wood's  Reference  Handbook  of  the  Medical  Sciences.  His  most  im- 
portant researches  are  on  the  anatomy  and  pathology  of  the  haemolymph  glands, 
the  pathology  of  diseases  of  the  blood  and  blood-forming  organs,  cardiac  syphilis, 
atent  syphilis,  tuberculosis,  and  toxic  action  of  mustard  gas. 


(141) 


RESEARCHES  ON  SPIROCHAETA 
PALLIDA 

By  ALDRED  SCOTT  WARTHIN 

As  A  GRADUATE  of  the  literary  class  of  1888, 1  consider  it,  indeed, 
a  very  great  honor  to  be  chosen  to  represent  the  medical  alumni 
of  my  Alma  Mater,  on  this  occasion,  the  Centennial  of  Indiana 
University.  In  his  very  gracious  introduction,  Dr.  Wynn  has 
offered  an  explanation  of  my  scientific  work,  in  that  he  has  dis- 
covered that  I  am  a  nature  lover  and  fond  of  the  high  mountains. 
But  how  could  anyone  come  out  of  Indiana  and  not  be  so?  I  owe 
three  very  distinct  influences  upon  my  life  and  work  to  the  circum- 
stances of  having  been  born  in  Indiana,  graduated  from  a  high 
school  in  a  small  country  town  of  Indiana,  and  of  having  attended 
Indiana  University.  In  the  county  in  which  I  was  born  and  passed 
the  early  period  of  my  life  three  distinct  geologic  ages  stood  on 
edge  across  its  surface,  revealing  themselves  in  all  the  banks  and 
cliffs  of  the  creeks  and  river  valleys.  The  records  of  the  life  of  past 
ages  in  the  form  of  fossils  were  everywhere;  even  the  very  slabs  of 
the  village  pavements  exhibited  the  remains  of  corals,  cephalopods, 
and  crinoids  to  the  interested  eyes  of  the  young  Hoosier  school- 
boys of  that  day.  Alas,  that  such  potent  stimuli  to  early  scientific 
interest  and  research  should  now  be  replaced  by  uninspiring  cement! 
But  the  old  stone  slabs  did  excite  us  to  the  collecting  of  fossils  and 
to  the  desire  to  find  out  the  meaning  of  the  strangely  interesting 
things  we  dug  from  bank  and  cliff  or  gathered  from  the  gravel  of 
the  streams.  Actually,  I  believe  that  there  is  not  a  stream  bed  in 
Decatur  county,  Indiana,  that,  as  a  boy,  in  the  tremendously 
exciting  adventure  of  collecting,  I  did  not  measure,  for  the  greater 
part  of  its  course,  upon  hands  and  knees.  To  this  potent  influence 
of  the  natural  environment,  there  was  added  in  the  high  school 
period  the  inspiration  of  a  wonderfully  gifted  "born  teacher"  of 
the  natural  sciences.  May  I  take  here  the  opportunity  of  paying 
tribute  to  the  memory  of  William  P.  Shannon,  a  Hoosier  school- 
master, obscure,  and  unknown  to  scientific  literature  or  fame,  but 
possessing  in  a  most  notable  measure  the  divine  fire  of  scientific 
enthusiasm  and  the  art  of  inspiring  others  to  the  same  appreciation 
of  the  wonders  of  the  world  of  nature.  Could  any  member  of  his 
high  school  classes  ever  lose  from  his  life  the  effect  produced,  when 

(143) 


144  Indiana  University 

the  teacher  standing  upon  an  outcrop  of  the  Lower  Silurian  bade 
them  look  across  the  bed  of  the  shallow  sea  of  the  Upper  Silurian  to 
the  coral  reefs  of  the  Devonian,  and  pictured  for  them  the  condi- 
tions of  those  earlier  ages!  It  was  such  an  influence  that  led  me  to 
Indiana  University  in  the  early  days  of  President  Jordan's  career 
there,  and  of  the  first  faculty  chosen  by  him.  In  many  ways  it  was 
a  very  primitive  University,  indeed,  but  it  was  also  unique  in  its 
atmosphere  of  intellectual  freedom,  and  its  insistence  upon  scientific 
methods  and  the  worth  of  the  sciences  in  an  education.  Can  it 
be  only  thirty-five  years  ago  that  the  warfare  between  the  classics 
and  the  sciences  was  being  so  bitterly  waged?  Was  it  only  so 
short  a  time  ago  that  the  family  pastor  urged  against  my  going  to 
the  State  University  on  the  ground  that  it  had  a  faculty  of  infidelsl 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  resuscitation  of  Indiana  Uni- 
versity by  Dr.  Jordan,  and  the  ideals  of  intellectual  liberty  for  which 
he  and  the  majority  of  his  colleagues  stood  marked  a  new  era  in 
American  education.  To  those  working  with  him  the  outside 
world  became  the  greater  University,  exercising  infinitely  greater 
influence  upon  us  than  the  confines  of  the  classroom  and  the  text- 
book. Again  I  crept  along  rocky  ledges  and  the  banks  of  streams, 
explored  underground  caves,  collected  and  studied  the  fauna  and 
flora  of  Monroe  and  Brown  county  woods  and  hills  in  the  passion- 
ate pursuit  of  a  knowledge  of  life  and  the  world  inhabited  by  it. 
Much  more  of  an  education  did  I  receive  from  those  woods  and  hills 
than  from  the  curriculum  itself.  And  so  to  Indiana  and  to  Indiana 
University  I  wish  to  give  thanks  for  the  part  they  have  played  in 
my  education.  For  the  passion  yet  remains  of  seeing  things  min- 
utely, of  caring  for  finest  details,  of  comparing  and  contrasting,  of 
discovering  likeness  and  difference,  of  knowing  things  fully,  and 
endeavoring  to  add  some  new  fact  to  the  sum  of  knowledge  already 
acquired  by  the  race.  And  this  has  led  me  in  the  years  of  my  own 
scientific  activities  to  the  pursuit  of  the  knowledge  and  the 
investigation  of  disease  and  the  causes  of  disease.  It  may  seem 
a  far  cry  from  the  woods  and  limestone  ledges  of  Indiana  to  the 
interstices  and  crannies  of  the  organs  and  tissues  of  the  human 
body,  but  the  adventure  has  been  the  same. 

I  consider  it  a  very  great  honor  to  be  asked  at  this  time  to  give 
you  a  resume  of  my  researches  in  the  pathology  of  one  of  the  most 
important  diseases  afflicting  mankind,  syphilis,  the  "Captain  of 
the  Band  of  Death",  as  Osier  put  it.  For  five  centuries  no  other 
disease  has  been  so  well  known  to  the  medical  profession  in  its 
clinical  aspects  as  has  syphilis.  Its  insidious  and  often  latent 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  145 

course,  its  relationship  to  disease  of  the  bones,  liver,  and  central 
nervous  system,  and  its  very  frequent  manifestation  in  various 
forms  of  skin  affections,  as  well  as  its  congenital  transmission  thru 
one  or  more  generations,  its  apparent  incurability, — all  of  these 
facts  have  long  been  recognized.  The  great  European  pathologists 
and  clinicians  of  the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  express 
their  appreciation  of  the  importance  of  the  disease  in  such  aphorisms 
as  "syphilis,  the  most  protean  of  all  diseases",  "Know  syphilis, 
and  you  know  all  medicine",  or  "Syphilis  is  ninety  per  cent  of  all 
dermatology,  and  fifty  per  cent  of  all  internal  medicine." 

Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  such  appreciations  of  the  importance 
of  this  disease  from  the  most  experienced  masters  of  medicine, 
syphilis  has  been  and  remains  to  this  day  to  the  average  practi- 
tioner a  dermatologic  affection.  Its  tremendous  importance  in 
internal  medicine  has  not  been,  and  even  today  is  not,  generally 
recognized,  because  of  the  fact  that  the  early  manifesta- 
tions of  syphilis,  the  chancre  and  the  various  syphilides,  are  chiefly 
cutaneous,  the  disease  has  come  to  be  thought  of  as  dermatologic, 
and  its  diagnosis  and  treatment  to  be  the  concern  of  the  derma- 
tologist. Only  the  syphilitic  affections  of  the  central  nervous 
system  have  been  conceded  as  lying  legitimately  outside  of  the 
field  of  dermatology.  The  internist,  especially,  has  been  very 
slow  to  realize  the  fact  that  non-dermatologic  syphilis  forms  a  very 
large  part  of  his  material,  and  that  syphilis  is  often  masquer- 
ading in  the  form  of  the  heart,  vascular,  hepatic,  or  other  organic 
disturbances  presenting  themselves  to  him.  He  frequently  has 
suspected  this,  but  in  the  absence  of  positive  etiologic  and  patho- 
logic proof  has  not  in  the  past  been  able  to  justify  his  suspicions. 

Even  the  pathologist  up  to  within  the  last  fifteen  years  has 
suspected  many  pathologic  conditions  to  be  syphilitic  without 
being  able  to  prove  positively  that  they  were.  The  etiologic  agent 
was  unknown,  his  pathologic  criteria  for  the  positive  histologic 
recognition  of  syphilis  were  limited  to  the  caseating  vascular 
granuloma,  known  as  gumma  or  syphiloma,  that  since  18  74  has  been 
practically  the  sole  lesion  accepted  by  pathologists  in  general  as 
syphilitic  in  nature.  Without  the  presence  of  a  definitely  gumma- 
tous  lesion  no  pathologist  dared  to  make  a  positive  pathologic  diag- 
nosis of  syphilis,  however  strong  his  convictions  might  be  that 
certain  non-gummatous  conditions,  such  as  arteriosclerosis,  aortic 
aneurysm,  hepatic  cirrhosis,  orchitis  fibrosa,  tabes,  paresis,  leuco- 
derma,  leucoplakia,  and  other  conditions  frequently  associated  with 


146  Indiana  University 

the  recognized  lesion  of  syphilis,  or  with  a  definite  clinical  history 
of  syphilitic  infection  might  be  actual  syphilis,  or  the  results  in 
some  way  of  this  disease.  In  explanation  of  the  relationship  to 
syphilis  of  these  non-gummatous  conditions,  both  clinician  and 
pathologist  were  forced  to  the  hypotheses  of  li  posts  yphilitic",  "meta- 
syphilitic",  and  "parasyphtiUic"  processes — conditions  bearing  a 
certain  relationship  to  syphilis,  but  which  were  not  this  disease,  nor 
even  necessarily  caused  by  it. 

Up  to  the  last  decade  our  knowledge  of  the  pathologic  lesions 
of  syphilis  has  been  limited  to  the  conception  of  the  gumma,  and 
the  pathology  of  syphilis,  as  given  in  our  textbooks  today,  is  essen- 
tially based  upon  the  occurrence  of  this  type  of  granuloma.  As 
late  as  the  Harvey  Lecture  in  1915,  Fordyce  says:  "Aside  from 
gummatous  involvement  of  the  viscera  little  is  known  of  the  effects 
of  the  infection  on  the  various  organs."  Gummata,  however,  are 
relatively  rare,  particularly  in  certain  organs  and  tissues,  and  this 
is  the  explanation  of  the  fact  that  the  recognized  pathology  of 
syphilis  has  never  been  able  to  correlate  itself  with  either  the 
clinician's  or  the  pathologist's  suspicion  of  a  much  greater  incidence 
and  importance  to  be  ascribed  to  syphilis  than  the  frequency  of 
occurrence  of  the  gumma  would  indicate. 

Only  with  the  discovery  of  the  etiologic  agent  of  syphilis,  in 
1905,  did  it  become  possible  for  us  to  make  progress  in  our  know- 
ledge of  this  disease.  My  own  clinical  and  pathologic  studies  in 
Vienna  during  the  nineties  had  convinced  me  of  the  tremendous 
importance  of  syphilis.  As  other  pathologists  had  done,  I  also  had 
noted  the  association  of  aortic  aneurysm  and  arteriosclerosis  with 
cases  of  known  syphilis,  and  with  tabes  and  paresis.  In  addition 
I  was  struck  by  a  similar  association  in  the  case  of  fibroid  myocar- 
ditis, chronic  interstitial  pancreatitis,  fibroid  orchitis,  and  slight 
localized  inflammatory  changes  of  a  very  chronic  character  in  many 
organs  and  tissues.  These  I  suspected  to  be  syphilitic  in  nature, 
but  could  not  prove  it. 

With  the  announcement  of  the  discovery  of  Spirochaeta  pallida 
by  Schaudinn,  in  1905,  and  the  corroboration  by  the  other  inves- 
tigators, during  the  following  year,  of  the  association  of  this  organ- 
ism with  syphilitic  lesions,  I  at  once,  in  1906,  began  a  series  of 
investigations  that  have  occupied  me  largely  during  a  period  of 
almost  fifteen  years.  It  is  the  result  of  this  long  period  of  inves- 
tigation that  I  am  now  intending  to  present  to  you  in  a  very  con- 
densed form,  aided  by  a  series  of  lantern  slides  that  will,  I  think, 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  147 

speak  more  clearly  and  forcibly  than  any  verbal  description  can 
possibly  do. 

My  first  investigations  were  concerned  with  congenital  syphilis 
of  the  heart.  In  a  series  of  cases  of  congenital  syphilitic  infection 
I  was  able  to  demonstrate  conclusively  the  fact  that  the  heart  is 
one  of  the  chief  organs  involved  in  congenital  syphilis,  that  Spiro- 
chaeta  pallida  occurs  in  great  numbers  in  the  myocardium,  often 
without  causing  any  recognizable  changes  in  the  heart  muscle,  in 
other  cases  associated,  with  focal  fatty  degeneration,  atrophy,  or 
necrosis  of  the  muscle,  while  other  cases  still  show  a  definite  form  of 
myocarditis  due  to  the  presence  of  the  spirochaetes.  This  form  of 
myocarditis  had  been  noted  once  only  in  the  literature  as  possibly 
syphilitic  in  character,  and  this  supposition  I  was  able  to  confirm 
with  certainty  by  the  demonstration  of  the  constant  presence  of 
the  spirochaete  in  this  form  of  tissue  lesion.  This  type  of  myo- 
carditis is  characterized  by  diffuse  infiltrations  of  lymphocytes  and 
plasma-cells,  fibroblasts  and  angioblasts,  with  a  relatively  slight 
new-formation  of  stroma  or  reticular  tissue,  often  semifluid  or 
mucoid  in  character,  giving  mucin-staining  reactions.  These  lesions 
occur  in  the  intermuscular  spaces,  along  the  smallest  vascular 
branches ;  less  frequently  do  they  develop  around  the  larger  coron- 
ary branches.  They  occur  also  in  the  endocardium  and  in  the  peri- 
cardium; congenital  syphilitic  endocarditis  and  pericarditis  are 
realities.  The  myocardial  changes  vary  in  degree,  from  very  slight 
proliferation  of  the  interstitial  cells  to  larger  infiltrations  that  may 
take  on  the  character  of  gummata.  Caseation  is,  however,  very 
rare.  Associated  with  this  type  of  myocarditis  there  occur  rarely 
myxoma-like  masses  of  the  same  type  of  cells  replacing  the  heart 
muscle,  and  containing  large  colonies  of  spirochaetes.  In  the 
interstitial  form  the  spirochaetes  occur  in  great  numbers,  either 
diffusely  or  localized  in  the  infiltrations;  any  portion  of  the 
heart  wall  may  be  involved.  The  number  of  the  spirochaetes, 
however,  bears  no  definite  relation  to  the  severity  of  the  reaction. 

A  fortunate  series  of  autopsy  cases  of  congenital  syphilis  in 
older  children,  adolescents,  and  young  adults  threw  further  light 
upon  the  nature  of  myocardial  syphilis  and  its  relation  to  fibroid 
heart.  Progressive  and  permanent  damage  to  the  heart  muscle, 
with  resulting  fibrosis  and  cardiac  insufficiency,  were  found  to 
follow  directly  upon  the  type  of  myocarditis  described  above. 
Active  lesions  and  healed  ones  were  found  existing  in  the  same 
heart,  even  in  cases  as  old  as  twenty-one  years.  In  congenital 
cardiac  syphilis  the  lesions  are  more  widely  scattered  than  in  the 


148  Indiana  University 

adult  myocardium,  the  right  ventricular  wall  being  as  often  involved 
as  the  left.     Fibrosis  is  the  ultimate  sequela. 

Other  features  of  congenital  syphilis  were  also  studied  with 
reference  to  the  localization  of  the  spirochaetes  and  the  associated 
lesions,  particularly  in  the  case  of  the  liver,  spleen,  pancreas,  and 
placenta.  The  same  type  of  pathologic  lesion  as  in  the  myo- 
cardium was  found  to  be  the  rule;  gummatous  lesions  were  the 
rare  exceptions.  It  was  demonstrated  beyond  any  doubt  that 
the  essential  lesion  produced  in  congenital  infections  by  the  Spiro- 
chaeta  pallidawas  of  the  nature  of  a  mild  interstitial  or  productive 
inflammation,  leading  ultimately  to  fibrosis  and  diminished  func- 
tion. It  must,  however,  again  be  emphasized  that  in  congenital 
syphilis  the  spirochaetes  may  occur  in  various  tissues  in  enormous 
numbers  without  the  production  of  any  changes  in  the  tissue-ele- 
ments recognizable  by  any  of  our  methods  of  examination,  thus 
indicating  a  high  degree  of  commensal  adaptation. 

From  the  study  of  congenital  cardiac  syphilis  it  was  a  natural 
step  to  the  study  of  myocardial  changes  in  acquired  syphilis.  My 
autopsy  material  gave  me  abundant  opportunity  for  this.  The 
hearts  of  cases  of  known  syphilis  were  first  studied,  particularly 
those  of  aortic  aneurysm,  tabes,  paresis,  and  other  forms  of  chronic 
syphilis.  The  histologic  study  was  carried  along  parallel  with  the 
search  for  the  spirochaete  by  means  of  the  Levaditi  silver-impreg- 
nation method.  In  every  case  of  known  syphilitic  infection  char- 
acteristic lesions  were  found  in  the  myocardium,  in  the  form  of 
slight,  or  more  marked,  infiltrations  of  lymphocytes  and  plasma 
cells  between  the  muscle  fibres.  These  infiltrations  are  diffuse  or 
patchy ;  very  rarely  are  they  focal  or  sharply  circumscribed.  Miliary 
infiltrations  occasionally  occur,  but  larger  caseating  gummata  of 
the  myocardium  are  very  rare.  In  the  great  majority  of  cases  the 
infiltrations  are  of  very  slight  degree,  the  cells  being  arranged  in 
close  single  file  between  the  fibres.  To  the  inexperienced  observer 
there  may  seem  to  be  only  a  slight  increase  of  the  interstitial  nuclei. 
Polymorphonuclears  rarely  occur  in  these  infiltrations,  and  eosino- 
philes  are  not  present.  The  cells  of  the  infiltration  are  probably 
chiefly  histiogenetic  and  endothelial  lymphocytes  and  young  form- 
ative cells  derived  from  the  stroma.  Larger  epithelioid  fibroblasts 
are  also  very  common  in  the  healing  areas.  There  is  an  increase  of 
the  reticular  fibres;  in  the  earlier  and  more  active  areas  fluid  spaces 
occur^,  between  the  fibres,  and  in  these  a  staining-reaction  for 
mucin  is  often  obtained. ^Evidences  of  a  progressive  healing  and 
fibrosis  are  always  present  in  the  chronic  cases.  In  older  healed 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  149 

areas  the  stroma  becomes  fibroid  and  hyaline.  The  fibroid  heart 
is  the  ultimate  outcome  of  these  interstitial  lesions.  The  heart- 
muscle  fibres  are  apparently  very  resistant  to  the  infection,  but 
as  the  stroma  increases  and  becomes  fibroid,  and  with  the  oblitera- 
tion of  the  capillaries,  the  muscle  becomes  atrophic  and  many  of 
the  fibres,  disappear,  so  that  the  cicatricial  areas  increase  in  size. 

The  myocardial  lesions  in  acquired  syphilis  are  found  chiefly 
in  the  wall  of  the  left  ventricle,  in  the  anterior  portion  of  the  wall 
just  above  the  apex,  the  adjacent  portion  of  the  septum,  and  less 
often  in  the  posterior  wall  of  the  left  ventricle  near  the  mitral  ring. 
The  infiltrations  are  found  more  frequently  near  the  endocardium 
than  toward  the  epicardium  as  in  congenital  syphilis.  These 
lesions  are  in  the  great  majority  of  cases  microscopic,  and  may  be 
found  in  marked  degree,  even  when  there  are  no  gross  changes  in 
the  heart.  In  other  cases  dilatations,  hypertrophy,  atrophy,  and 
fibroid  patches  in  the  wall  of  the  left  ventricle  are  apparent  in  the 
gross  examination.  Thrombosis  of  the  left  ventricle,  aneurysmal 
dilatation  of  the  anterior  wall  just  above  the  apex,  and  rupture  of 
the  heart  occur  as  sequelae  of  syphilitic  myocarditis.  I  have  seen 
over  thirty  cases  of  thrombosis  of  the  left  ventricle  in  which  the 
thrombus  was  attached  directly  over  an  area  of  syphilitic  disease 
in  the  ventricular  wall. 

In  the  myocardial  lesions  spirochaetes  of  syphilis  have  been 
demonstrated  often  enough  to  convince  me  that  they  are  due  to 
nothing  but  the  Spirochaeta  pallida,  and  that  they  represent  abso- 
lutely specific  lesions  of  syphilitic  infection.  The  search  for  the 
spirochaete  is,  however,  very  difficult  and  time-consuming  in  the 
case  of  chronic  acquiied  syphilitic  infection.  The  organisms  are 
not  numerous,  and  many  blocks  and  great  numbers  of  sections  must 
often  be  examined  before  a  group  of  the  spirochaetes  may  be  found. 
Moreover,  the  Levaditi  method,  the  most  reliable  method  available 
during  the  greater  part  of  the  time  in  which  this  research  was  in 
progress,  is  very  capricious,  and  so  much  depends  upon  freshness 
of  tissue,  conditions  of  fixation,  etc.,  that  the  method  must  be 
regarded  as  a  difficult  one,  even  in  the  hands  of  experts.  For  this 
reason,  my  laboratory  has  also  engaged  itself  with  the  problem  of 
improving  the  technical  methods  necessary  for  the  demonstration 
of  the  spirochaete.  My  own  modification  of  the  Levaditi  method 
has  been  found  to  give  better  and  more  constant  results  than  the 
original;  but  we  have  recently  replaced  this  method  by  one  much 
superior,  which  I  shall  describe  later. 

From  the  study  of  hearts  of  known  syphilis  our  studies  progressed 


150  Indiana  University 

to  the  hearts  of  patients  in  whom  a  syphilitic  infection  had  never 
been  recognized  or  suspected.  Such  cases  appeared  in  my  autopsy 
material  in  striking  numbers — in  about  forty  per  cent  of  the  entire 
autopsy  material.  The  majority  of  the  patients  showing  an  unrec- 
ognized latent  syphilis  present  the  clinical  picture  of  the  cardio- 
vascular-renal complex.  Their  symptoms  were  those  of  cardiac 
incompensation,  myocardial  insufficiency,  hypertrophy  or  dilata- 
tion of  the  heart,  chronic  passive  congestion,  general  arterioscler- 
osis, and  frequently  renal  disease.  They  died  a  cardiac  death; 
and  the  microscopic  lesions  in  these  cases  were  identical  with  those 
found  in  known  cases  of  syphilis,  and  in  them  also  were  found 
repeatedly  typical  spirochaetes  of  syphilis.  These  cases,  therefore, 
were  syphilis — latent  infections,  unrecognized.  In  other  cases 
giving  history  of  early  infection  but  supposedly  cured  and  running 
many  years  without  recognizable  signs  of  syphilis,  with  negative 
Wasserman  reactions,  the  same  tissue-lesions  in  the  heart,  associ- 
ated with  the  presence  of  Spirochaeta  pallida,  were  found. 

Taking  up  the  aorta  in  all  of  these  cases,  also  known  cases 
of  syphilis,  "cured"  and  uncured,  and  unrecognizable  clinically, 
the  microscopical  examination  showed  characteristic  infiltrations 
of  plasma-cells  and  lymphocytes  along  the  course  of  the  vasa 
vasorum  thru  the  adventitia  and  media,  associated  with  slight 
or  marked  atherosclerotic  changes.  An  aorta  presenting  no  path- 
ological changes  to  the  naked  eye  may  show  on  microscopic  examin- 
ation typical  syphilitic  infiltrations  in  media  or  adventitia.  The 
gross  appearances  of  the  aorta  cannot  be  taken  as  an  absolute 
criterion  of  the  condition  of  the  vessel.  Syphilis  of  the  aorta  may 
exist  in  apparently  normal  aortas,  or  in  aortas  showing  the  pic- 
ture of  an  ordinary  atherosclerosis,  or  when  the  gross  pathologic 
picture  is  that  of  a  syphilitic  mesaortitis.  In  these  aortic  lesions 
the  spirochaetes  are  found  with  greater  difficulty  than  in  the  myo- 
cardium. The  number  is  usually  small.  The  more  active  the 
process,  the  more  easily  found  are  the  organisms.  The  lesions 
are  found  most  often  in  the  arch  of  the  aorta  and  in  the  abdominal 
portion.  Our  work  has  confirmed  the  syphilitic  nature  of  aortic 
aneurysm.  I  have  not  seen  a  single  instance  of  the  latter  that  was 
not  syphilitic.  While  in  congenital  syphilis  a  localization  of 
spirochaetes  in  the  intima  of  the  aorta  may  occur,  I  have  never 
noted  such  in  the  aorta  in  acquired  syphilis.  The  atherosclerotic 
changes  in  the  intima  and  media  appear  to  be  due  to  a  slow  anaemic 
infarction  resulting  from  the  obliteration  of  the  arteries  of  the 
vasa  vasorum.  The  lymphocytic  and  plasma-cell  infiltrations  are 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  151 

in  the  early  stages  most  marked  in  and  around  the  walls  of  the 
small  arterioles;  later  these  become  obliterated  by  a  concentric 
proliferation  of  the  endothelium,  giving  the  appearance  of  a  small 
tubercle  or  gumma. 

Similar  syphilitic  lesions  were  found  in  the  pulmonary  artery 
and  in  the  wall  of  an  aneurysm  of  the  latter  vessel,  with  demon- 
stration of  the  spirochaete.  The  microscopic  changes  are  the  same; 
infiltrations  in  the  adventitia  and  media,  along  the  vasa  vasorum, 
with  obliteration  of  the  latter  and  the  production  of  atherosclerotic 
changes  in  the  intima.  A  similar  syphilitic  mesarteritis  of  the  pul- 
monary arteries  was  found  also  in  a  case  of  chronic  cyanosis  and 
polycythemia  (Vaquez's  disease),  enabling  me  to  interpret  this  case 
as  one  of  "Ayerza's  disease",  the  first  one  to  be  reported  in  this 
country.  It  was  noted  also  that  sclerotic  changes  in  the  pulmon- 
ary arteries  were  not  uncommon  in  the  lungs  of  cases  presenting 
syphilitic  lesions  in  the  myocardium  and  other  organs;  and  that 
a  more  or  less  patchy  fibrosis  of  such  lungs  was  usually  coincident. 

Extending  the  study  of  syphilis  of  the  arteries  to  the  femoral 
and  popliteal  arteries  and  their  larger  branches,  as  well  as  to  the 
walls  of  aneurysms  of  these  vessels,  identical  syphilitic  lesions  with 
those  in  the  aorta  and  pulmonary  artery  were  found.  In  one  case 
the  entire  systemic  arterial  trunks  and  their  smaller  branches 
showed  the  most  marked  degree  of  syphilitic  inflammation  associ- 
ated with  multiple  thromboses. 

Following  the  study  of  syphilis  of  the  blood  vessels,  the  pan- 
creas of  all  cases  showing  syphilitic  lesions  in  the  myocardium  and 
aorta  was  carefully  studied.  In  all  of  the  older  cases  of  syphilis 
the  pancreas  showed  more  or  less  atrophy,  with  patches  of  chronic 
interstitial  pancreatitis.  In  every  one  of  these  cases  active  areas 
of  plasma-cell  infiltrations,  with  stroma  increase,  were  also  present. 
These  lesions  were  identical  in  kind  with  the  syphilitic  lesions  of 
the  myocardium  and  aorta  and  in  two  of  the  cases  Spirochaeta 
pallida  was  demonstrated  in  the  pancreatic  lesion.  Syphilis  of 
the  pancreas  had  been  practically  unknown  before.  It  is  a  most 
interesting  fact  that  out  of  twelve  cases  of  diabetes  coming  to 
autopsy,  only  two  did  not  show  the  presence  of  syphilitic  lesions  in 
the  pancreas  and  other  organs.  If  interstitial  pancreatitis  leading 
to  fibrosis  of  the  islands  of  Langerhans  is  a  cause  of  diabetes,  then 
syphilis  being  a  cause  of  this  condition  must  be  reckoned  with  in 
the  etiology  of  diabetes. 

In  the  adrenals  of  cases  showing  syphilitic  lesions  in  the  heart, 
aorta,  and  pancreas,  the  same  small  infiltrations  of  lymphocytes 


152  Indiana  University 

and  plasma-cells  were  found.  They  occur  in  the  medullary  portion 
or  in  the  inner  portion  of  the  reticular  zone.  In  three  cases  of 
Addison's  disease  the  syphilitic  infiltrations  and  fibrosis  were  so 
marked  as  to  cause  nearly  complete  atrophy  of  the  organ.  Syphil- 
itic infiltrations  were  found  also  in  the  semilunar  and  adrenal 
ganglia.  Another  striking  feature  observed  in  the  adrenals  of 
chronic  syphilis  was  a  marked  lipoidosis  of  the  cortex. 

The  liver  of  all  the  cases  of  latent  chronic  syphilis,  as  well  as  in 
clinically  active  cases,  showed  chronic  passive  congestion  and 
atrophy,  while  inflammatory  lesions,  varying  from  slight  infiltra- 
tions of  the  periportal  tissues  to  the  most  severe  forms  of  cirrhosis, 
were  also  constant  findings.  Ten  cases  of  atrophic  cirrhosis,  one 
of  the  Hanot  type,  and  three  of  the  Glissonian,  occurred  in  this 
material,  in  addition  to  five  cases  of  gumma  and  eight  cases  of  hepar 
lobatum.  All  of  these  showed  characteristic  plasma-cell  lesions 
of  the  same  type  as  in  the  other  organs. 

In  all  male  cases  of  acquired  syphilis,  active  or  latent,  the  testes 
showed  marked  lesions  in  the  form  of  atrophy,  fibrosis,  and  plasma- 
cell  infiltrations.  Spermatogenesis  was  dimished  in  the  mildest 
cases,  and  in  older,  more  severe  infections  the  entire  organ  may  be 
fibroid.  The  interstitial  cells  remain  preserved,  and  often  appear 
hypertrophic,  even  in  cases  in  which  the  patients  had  complained 
of  a  premature  loss  of  sexual  desire.  It  is  evident  that  the  testes  are 
especially  affected  by  the  syphilitic  infection.  In  congenital 
syphilis  enormous  numbers  of  spirochaetes  may  be  found  in  this 
organ  without  any  perceptible  histologic  changes;  but  in  the  older 
cases  the  spirochaetes  occur  only  in  the  active  areas  of  infiltration. 
A  seminal  transmission  in  old  and  latent  syphilis  seems  very  pro- 
bable. 

It  is  impossible,  in  the  time  allotted  me  here,  to  take  up  each 
individual  organ  and  tissue  in  detail.  It  must  suffice  to  say,  that 
in  the  brain  and  spinal  cord,  in  the  spinal  nerves  and  ganglia,  in 
the  prevertebral  tissues,  root  of  mesentery,  along  the  branches  of 
the  portal  vein,  in  the  pelvic  tissues,  in  the  lungs,  and  elsewhere, 
there  constantly  are  found  in  the  bodies  of  old  syphilitics  minute 
peri  vascular  infiltrations  of  lymphocytes  and  plasma-cells,  associ- 
ated with  fibroblastic  and  angioblastic  proliferations,  leading  to 
obliteration  of  the  vessels,  and  eventually  to  fibrosis.  Only  in  the 
spleen,  kidneys,  ovary,  and  uterus  have  such  typical  lesions  of  latent 
syphilis  not  been  found ;  but  it  must  also  be  stated  that  no  especial 
study  has  as  yet  been  made  of  these  organs. 

The  results  of  these  researches  are  very  important;  in  fact, 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  153 

they  have  been  said  to  be  epoch-making  in  so  far  as  the  history  of 
syphilis  is  concerned.  They  show  that  the  gumma  is  not  the  essen- 
tial pathological  lesion  of  syphilis,  but  that  it  is,  on  the  contrary, 
a  relatively  rare  formation.  The  great  majority  of  cases  of  syphil- 
itic infection  run  their  course  without  the  formation  of  gummatous 
granulomas. 

The  essential  pathology  of  late  or  latent  acquired  syphilis  is 
the  occurrence  of  a  chronic  irritative  or  inflammatory  process, 
characterized  by  lymphocytic  and  plasma-cell  infiltrations  in  the 
stroma  about  the  blood-vessels  and  lymphatics,  with  slight  angio- 
blastic  and  fibroblastic  proliferations,  leading  eventually  to  fibrosis 
and  atrophy  of  the  parenchyma,  with  corresponding  loss  of  func- 
tion. In  the  active  lesions  relatively  avirulent  spirochaetes  are 
found  in  small  numbers;  these  disappear  as  fibrosis  develops. 

The  syphilitic  becomes  a  "spirochaete  carrier",  the  host  of  an 
organism  symbiotic  in  a  high  degree.  In  this  respect  it  is  to  be 
classed  with  the  trypanosome,  oiganisms  of  malaria,  the  bacilli 
of  leprosy  and  tuberculosis,  the  pyogenic  cocci,  and  perhaps  even 
more  commensal  organisms,  as  the  colon  bacillus,  etc. 

Syphilis  is  a  generalized  process  from  the  very  beginning  most 
probably.  The  spirochaetes  spread  thruout  the  entire  body,  and 
colonize  particularly  in  the  interstitial  tissues,  around  the  smallest 
blood-vessels,  especially  in  the  nervous  system,  myocardium,  aorta, 
liver,  pancreas,  adrenals,  and  testes.  Wherever  they  produce 
irritation,  the  characteristic  inflammatory  infiltrations  are  found. 
In  individual  cases  especial  predilection  for  one  system,  organ,  or 
tissue  may  be  shown;  but  there  is,  as  yet,  no  explanation  of  such 
predilections.  The  infection  is  a  steadily  progressive  one.  Healing 
areas  and  active  ones  occur  side  by  side,  and  in  the  old  cases  the 
evidence  of  extensive  healing  is  found  in  the  occurrence  of  wide- 
spread fibrosis.  I  have,  however,  seen  no  case  histo logically 
"cured";  in  every  one  examined  active  syphilitic  areas  were  still 
present.  "Cured"  syphilis  is  latent  syphilis,  and  the  carrying  of 
the  spirochaete  produces  an  immunity  against  new  infection  with 
this  organism.  The  price  paid  for  this  immunity  is  the  slowly 
progressive  defensive  inflammatory  infiltration,  which  after  many 
years  results  in  fibrosis  and  atrophy,  with  a  corresponding  diminu- 
tion of  function,  asserting  itself  clinically  as  myocarditis,  aortitis, 
aneurysm,  hepatitis,  diabetes,  tabes,  or  paresis,  or  in  other  milder 
forms  of  functional  disturbance. 

Mild  for  many  years,  the  syphilitic  infection  may  atany  time  rise 
violently  above  the  clinical  horizon  in  more  virulent  form,  and  with 


154  Indiana  University 

a  more  rapidly  progressive  course.  What  lies  at  the  bottom  of 
this  increase  in  virulence  or  lowering  of  tissue-resistance  we  do 
not  yet  know.  The  individual  affected  with  syphilis  has  always 
this  sword  hanging  over  his  head.  It  may  fall  at  any  time,  or  it 
may  never  fall;  but  his  expectancy  of  life  is  lowered,  and  he  is  most 
likely  to  die  a  premature  death  from  affections  not  ordinarily 
recognized  as  syphilis.  Particularly  does  he  die  a  myocardial 
death.  My  work  has  shown  that  death  in  the  middle  years  of  life 
is  in  an  extraordinary  degree  the  result  of  latent  syphilis — the  result 
of  a  long  period  of  a  mild  infection  with  a  highly  symbiotic  organism 
producing  slight  injuries,  until  the  sum  total  of  such  injury  causes 
functional  disturbances  leading  eventually  to  death. 

This  work  throws  also  much  light  on  the  question  of  the  inci- 
dence of  syphilis  in  our  population  It  is  undoubtedly  much  greater 
than  is  usually  supposed.  Latent  syphilis  undoubtedly  lies  at  the 
bottom  of  many  conditions  not  suspected  of  being  syphilis,  either 
because  the  patient  gives  no  history  or  sign  of  having  ever  had  a 
chancre  or  skin  lesions,  or  having  had  these,  is  regarded  as  abso- 
lutely cured.  Undoubtedly  many  cases  are  innocent  infections, 
many  congenital,  and  many  acquired  without  any  recognition  of  the 
earlier  stages  and  without  any  diagnosis  until  years  after. 

My  work  has  shown  further  that  the  ultimate  diagnosis  of 
syphiljs  is  a  microscopic  one,  resting  upon  the  microscopic  determ- 
ination of  specific  tissue-lesions  caused  by  the  Spirochaetapallida. 
The  etiologic  agent  of  the  disease  being  known,  and  the  character- 
istic lesions  produced  by  it  now  demonstrated  by  this  work,  the 
importance  of  syphilis  in  producing  internal  affections  and  dis- 
orders has  been  made  clear,  and  the  Spirochaeta  pallida  receives 
consequently  an  increased  pathogenic  value.  More  than  ever  is 
syphilis  the  "Captain  of  the  Band  of  Death"! 

In  solving  the  etiologic  problem  of  so  many  internal  disorders, 
the  way  to  prevention  and  therapeutic  management  is  also  indi- 
cated. The  individual  infected  with  syphilis  usually  receives  an 
intensive  treatment  for  a  limited  period,  after  which  he  is  dis- 
charged as  "cured".  If  he  is  a  "spirochaete  carrier"  with  certain 
possibilities  of  danger  to  him  because  of  that  fact,  the  damage 
resulting  from  the  latent  infection  may  be  reduced  to  a  minimum, 
by  careful  attention  to  general  hygiene  and  an  avoidance  of  all 
conditions  tending  to  lower  the  general  resistance  of  the  body.  A 
periodic  antisyphilitic  treatment  may  also  serve  to  keep  the  infec- 
tion from  becoming  more  virulent  at  any  time. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  155 

Since  the  diagnosis  of  syphilis  depends  upon  the  demonstration 
of  the  spirochaete  in  the  tissue-lesions  it  becomes  very  necessary 
to  obtain  a  method  by  which  this  can  be  carried  out  as  quickly  and 
easily  as  possible.  Levaditi's  silver-impregnation  method  has  been 
the  only  method  available.  This  has,  however,  required  ten  to 
fourteen  days,  and  the  tissue  is  impregnated  in  mass,  so  that  histolo- 
gical  control  is  difficult,  as  it  cannot  be  applied  to  single  sections. 
Moreover,  the  results  obtained  by  this  method  are  very  uneven  and 
uncertain.  In  connection  with  Mr.  A.  C.  Starry,  the  writer  has 
evolved  two  methods,  by  which  silver -impregnation  is  carried  out 
in  single  sections  mounted  on  cover-glasses,  cut  from  paraffin-em- 
bedded formol-fixed  tissue.  Ordinary  diagnostic  blocks  can  be  used. 
With  the  second  of  these  methods,  our  agar-silver  method,  prepara- 
tions of  spirochaetes  can  be  obtained  within  one  hour  after  cutting 
the  sections  and  mounting  them  on  cover-glasses.  We  have  found 
this  method,  moreover,  to  be  much  more  certain  of  good  results 
than  the  original  Levaditi,  and  have  obtained  spirochaetes  by  its 
use  in  tissues  in  which  the  original  Levaditi  absolutely  failed.  We 
consider  this  method  a  great  technical  advance  in  the  demonstra- 
tion and  study  of  Spirochaeta  pallida  in  the  tissues. 

In  closing,  the  researches  outlined  above  create  a  new  pathology 
for  an  ancient  disease,  and  thereby,  a  new  clinical  attitude  and  an 
altered  therapeutic  conception.  The  aphorisms  of  the  older 
physicians  have  been  confirmed,  the  suspicions  of  the  older  patho- 
logists  justified,  and  syphilis  stands  today  revealed  in  truth  as  the 
Great  Killer  of  mankind. 


THE   UNIVERSITY   MEDICAL  SCHOOL 
AND  THE  STATE1 

By  ALDRED  SCOTT  WARTHIN 

THE  SPEAKER  preceding  me  has  spoken  of  state  medicine.  I  wish 
to  go  a  step  farther  than  he  has  done  and  to  say  a  few  words  for 
university  state  medicine  or  state  university  medicine,  as  you  may 
choose  to  interpret  it. 

The  great  social  ferment  of  the  times,  following  upon  the 
upheaval  of  the  Great  War,  does  not  leave  medicine  untouched. 
The  profession  of  the  art  and  science  of  healing,  in  its  origin  an 
institution  of  social  service,  but  developing,  thru  the  exigencies  of 
modern  civilization,  more  and  more  into  a  business  vocation  in 
which  large  financial  rewards  are  possible  to  the  successful  prac- 
titioner, does  not  today  escape  the  charge  of  commercialism. 
Assertions  are  made,  that,  in  spite  of  all  the  social  service  medicine 
still  renders  thru  the  medium  of  charitable  institutions,  a  large 
per  cent  of  the  working  population  does  not,  or  cannot,  have  effic- 
ient medical  treatment  or  adequate  protection  from  disease.  The 
laborer  does  not  want  charity,  but  only  the  very  rich  can  ob- 
tain the  most  highly  skilled  medical  service.  Based  upon  these 
claims  arises  the  cry  for  a  further  socialization  or  nationalization 
of  the  practice  of  medicine,  in  the  form  of  "compulsory  health 
insurance",  "state  medicine",  "communal  medicine",  and  the  like. 
The  strength  and  significance  of  this  movement  cannot  be 
doubted,  and  the  medical  profession  cannot  ignore  it.  In  this 
country  the  Association  for  Labor  Legislation  has  for  several  years 
conducted  a  vigorous  campaign  for  compulsory  health  insurance, 
and  its  program  has  received  the  approval  and  vigorous  support  of 
the  majority  of  the  labor  organizations,  as  well  as  of  other  societies 
or  associations  less  directly  connected  with  labor.  It  has  become  a 
plank  in  a  political  platform.  In  eight  states  commissions  have 
been  appointed  for  the  consideration  of  a  health  insurance  program, 
and  in  two  states  actual  health  insurance  bills  have  already  been 
introduced.  In  England,  the  National  Insurance  Act  was  passed 
without  adequate  consultation  of  the  medical  profession  upon  whom 
the  burden  of  carrying  this  law  into  effect  was  thrown;  and  again 

Response  to  toast  at  a  dinner  given  at  the  Claypool  Hotel,  Indianapolis,  May  5,  1920,  for  the 
guests  and  the  medical  faculty  of  the  University. 

(157) 


158  Indiana  University 

in  1919,  the  income  limit,  within  which  insurance  in  England  was 
made  obligatory,  was  extended,  with  certain  exceptions,  from  £160 
to  £250,  without  consulting  the  practitioners  at  all.  In  the  report 
of  the  Local  Government  Board  for  1917-18,  it  was  shown  that  of 
the  24,000  registered  practitioners  of  England  and  Wales,  over 
16,000  were  engaged  in  insurance  domiciliary  practice,  while  the 
great  majority  of  the  others  were  associated  with  some  kind  of 
communal  medical  service.  We  may  well  ask,  what  further  ex- 
tensions may  be  demanded,  and  granted?  Shall  compulsory  health 
insurance  be  extended  to  all  classes  of  citizens?  Shall  all  medical 
work  be  placed  upon  a  communal  basis,  with  the  practitioner  acting 
as  the  full-time  salaried  servant  of  the  community?  A  few  medical 
men  support  this  latter  program  with  enthusiasm;  but  from  the 
reports  of  committees  in  the  American  Medical  Association  and 
many  local  medical  societies,  the  majority  of  American  practitioners 
would  reject  it  as  undemocratic,  destructive  to  initiative,  freedom 
of  action,  and  the  personal  relation,  so  important  in  the  practice  of 
medicine. 

But  that  some  form  of  communal  medicine  is  inevitable,  there 
can  be  no  doubt.  In  fact,  it  is  already  here.  The  greatest  func- 
tion of  the  state  is  the  preservation  of  the  life,  liberty,  and  happi- 
ness of  all  its  citizens ;  and  this  means  the  preservation  of  the  health 
of  its  citizens.  It  is  to  the  self-interest  of  the  state  to  keep  its  citizens 
well.  Upon  this  line  the  state  has  already  proceeded  far,  in  its 
development  of  preventive  medicine,  thru  the  communal  mechan- 
isms of  state  and  local  departments  of  health .  Public  safety  against 
the  epidemic  contagious  diseases  was  primarily  sought,  but  state 
medicine  has  been  extended  to  occupational  diseases,  industrial 
hygiene,  child  labor,  protection  of  water  supplies,  disposal  of  sewage 
and  garbage,  street  cleaning,  medical  and  dental  inspection  of  school 
children,  mothers'  pensions,  educational  campaigns  against  the  fly, 
mosquito,  tuberculosis,  and  the  venereal  diseases,  and  along  a  hun- 
dred other  lines  of  preventive  medicine.  The  state  also  assumes  to 
take  care  of  its  insane  and  mentally  incompetent,  and  in  some  degree 
of  its  indigent  sick,  in  some  form  of  charity  at  least.  In  the  full 
development  of  its  function  in  the  prevention  of  disease  the  state 
health  department  has  developed  the  diagnostic  laboratory,  by 
which  means  bacteriologic,  serologic,  toxicologic,  and  even  path- 
ologic examinations  are  furnished  free,  or  at  cost.  The  most  im- 
portant and  productive  field  of  medicine,  today,  and  to  many  minds, 
the  most  attractive,  is  that  of  preventive  medicine,  rather  than  cur- 
ative. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  159 

The  advances  in  state  preventive  medicine  have  been  very 
notable  in  the  more  advanced  states  of  the  Union,  altho  much  yet 
remains  to  be  accomplished  in  this  field  of  state  medicine.  The 
division  of  the  state  into  communal  health  districts,  according  to 
population,  with  the  establishment  of  local  laboratories  and  health 
centers,  as  provided  in  the  bills  introduced  in  several  of  the  states, 
will  place  state  preventive  medicine  on  a  still  higher  plane  of  effic- 
iency. The  question,  however,  that  we  must  now  face  is  the 
enlargement  of  the  field  of  state  medicine  from  its  present  one  of 
the  prevention  of  disease  to  that  of  the  diagnosis  and  treatment  of 
disease.  Shall  the  state  invade  the  field  of  the  practice  of  medicine? 

That  some  form  of  state  diagnostic  and  curative  medicine  is 
coming  is  inevitable.  It  may  be  found  necessary  as  the  final  de- 
velopment of  preventive  medicine;  or  it  may  come  as  the  only 
solution  of  our  medical  social  problems.  Indeed,  as  far  as  the  first 
necessity  is  concerned,  the  state  has  already  undertaken  curative 
measures  in  the  case  of  rabies,  malaria,  hookworm  infection,  tuber- 
culosis, and  the  venereal  diseases,  as  well  as  affections  of  the  eyes, 
nose,  and  teeth,  and  orthopedic  conditions.  If  the  necessity  claimed, 
of  insufficient  and  inadequate  medical  service  for  the  laboring 
classes,  actually  exists,  then  either  compulsory  health  insurance  or 
some  other  form  of  state  medicine  must  be  developed  to  give  them 
the  medical  help  they  should  have.  The  majority  of  the  American 
medical  profession  apparently  regard  compulsory  health  insur- 
ance as  non-American,  undemocratic,  and  destructive  of  personal 
initiative  and  liberty ;  but  to  an  alternative  plan  of  state  medicine 
by  which  the  state  can  offer  to  those  who  need  it,  at  rates  within 
their  means,  efficient  diagnostic  and  medical  services  from  skilled, 
or  event  expert,  laboratory  men,  physicians,  and  surgeons,  there 
seems  to  be  but  little  opposition.  Such  medical  services  should  be 
elective,  and  not  obligatory.  A  mechanism  by  which  such  a  state 
medicine  can  be  accomplished  has  already  been  touched  upon  by 
the  previous  speaker,  in  the  form  of  health  centers,  scattered  thru- 
out  the  state,  according  to  density  of  population,  each  center  to 
have  attached  to  it  a  hospital  for  the  diagnosis  and  treatment  of 
disease,  with  a  staff  of  full  or  part-time  salaried  laboratory  and 
clinical  experts,  who  will  give  an  equal  service  to  all  who  ask  treat- 
ment, the  compensation  for  such  services  being  determined  by  the 
income  or  earning-power  of  the  patient.  But  many  practical 
problems  present  themselves,  as  to  the  means  of  financing  and 
the  control  of  such  communal  hospitals.  The  evils  of  political 
patronage,  apparently  so  inseparable  from  our  state  health  set- 


160  Indiana  University 

vices,  could  create  infinite  damage  if  introduced  into  medical 
practice.  What  more  dangerous  union  could  be  imagined  than  that 
of  politics  and  communal  medical  service! 

This  brings  me  to  the  chief  point  I  wish  to  make;  and  that  is, 
in  the  event  of  the  adoption  of  any  form  of  state  medicine  of  the 
kind  just  described,  the  control  of  such  local  hospitals  should  be 
under  the  state  university  medical  school,  their  policies  directed  by 
it,  and  the  standard  of  service  and  the  fitness  of  the  medical  ap- 
pointees determined  by  the  ideals  of  medical  education  inculcated 
by  that  institution.  Why  should  not  the  state,  thru  its  university 
school  of  medicine,  enter  the  field  of  medical  practice,  and  give  to 
all  of  the  citizens  of  the  state  who  desire  it  the  service  of  the  best 
men  in  medicine  it  can  enlist  in  its  faculty?  Where  should  the  best 
medical  men  in  the  state  be  but  on  that  faculty?  A  state  hospital, 
or  several,  or  many  state  hospitals,  under  the  control  of  the  uni- 
versity medical  school,  would  seem  the  ideal  way  of  developing  a 
really  efficient  form  of  state  medicine.  A  central  hospital  at  the 
school  itself,  with  local  branches  developed  to  meet  the  needs  of 
different  communities,  a  body  of  full-time  salaried  laboratory  and 
clinical  men  of  the  highest  type,  chosen  on  university  criteria, 
possessing  teaching  and  research  qualities  and  the  desire  for  social 
service,  giving  equal  service  to  all  who  apply,  and  a  compensation 
determined  by  income  or  earning-power — all  of  this  seems  a  prac- 
tical and  sane  form  of  state  medicine.  I  believe  that  this  is  a 
feasible  plan  and  that  it  would  result  in  a  highly  efficient  system  of 
state  medicine.  It  would  pay  its  own  way. 

Progress  has  already  been  made  in  some  of  the  states  towards 
such  a  system.  If  I  may  be  permitted  to  point  out  what  a  sister 
state,  Michigan,  has  already  accomplished,  you  will  realize  the 
advanced  position  she  is  holding  in  state  medicine  today.  How- 
ever, the  beginnings  were  not  primarily  altruistic.  With  a  medical 
school  located  in  a  small  university  town,  it  became  necessary  in 
the  earlier  years  of  the  school's  development  to  obtain  clinical 
material  for  the  instruction  of  the  medical  students.  Fortunately 
for  the  university,  and  for  the  state,  various  efforts  to  remove  the 
medical  school  to  the  neighboring  city  of  Detroit  have  never  been 
permitted  to  succeed,  and  the  school  remains  at  Ann  Arbor,  where 
it  has  developed  for  itself  adequate  clinics  for  instruction  with  an 
abundance  of  clinical  material,  and,  incidentally  has  furnished  a 
striking  example  of  university  state  medicine.  The  evolution  has 
been  a  most  interesting  one.  The  university  hospital  is  not,  and 
has  never  been  a  charity  hospital;  it  has  but  a  few  free  beds,  and 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  161 

these  have  not  been  furnished  by  the  state.  It  has  offered  its 
services — those  of  a  well-trained  group  of  teaching  clinicians — at 
a  low  or  moderate  cost — to  the  citizens  of  the  state,  who  had  not 
the  means  to  pay  the  regular  charges  for  such  services,  or  who  were 
sent  for  consultation  to  the  hospital  by  any  practitioner  of  the  state. 
As  a  concession  to  the  profession  of  the  state,  the  university  hos- 
pital was  not  made  available  to  the  well-to-do  or  the  rich  of  Michi- 
gan, except  as  the  physician  of  such  patients  desired  to  send  them 
there  for  aid  in  diagnosis  or  treatment.  In  addition  to  the  service 
rendered  the  poorer  citizens  of  the  state,  the  hospital  thus  became 
used  as  a  consulting  center.  As  the  service  rendered  to  the  state 
came  gradually  to  be  appreciated  by  the  citizens,  various  bills  were 
passed  by  the  state  legislature,  with  the  effect  not  only  of  increasing 
the  clinical  mateiial  available  for  instiuction,  but  also  of  empha- 
sizing the  hospital's  social  service  to  the  state.  One  of  these  public 
acts,  passed  in  1913,  provided  for  the  medical  and  surgical  treat- 
ment at  the  university  hospital  of  any  child  deformed,  or  afflicted 
with  a  malady  that  can  be  remedied,  and  whose  parents  are  unable 
to  provide  proper  treatment,  such  child  to  be  sent  to  the  hospital 
thru  the  probate  judge  of  the  county,  the  expenses  of  such  treat- 
ment to  be  audited  by  the  auditor-general,  and  paid  by  the  state 
to  the  university.  In  1915,  another  act  provided  free  hospital 
service,  and  medical  and  surgical  treatment  to  any  adult  legal 
resident  of  any  county  who  can  be  benefited,  and  who  is  unable  to 
pay  for  such  care  and  treatment,  as  well  as  for  the  care  of  any 
pregnant  woman  unable  to  pay,  and  for  the  children  of  such  during 
the  period  of  hospital  care,  under  a  similar  probate  court  jurisdic- 
tion, and  payment  of  the  hospital  expenses  by  the  state  or  county. 

The  result  of  the  social  service  thus  rendered  to  the  state  of 
Michigan  by  its  university  hospital  has  been  a  greatly  increased 
appreciation  of  this  service  by  the  citizens,  and  a  growing  tendency 
toward  a  further  development  of  this  form  of  state  medicine.  The 
hospital  facilities  becoming  inadequate,  the  last  legislature  was 
asked  for  a  new  and  adequate  building,  the  entire  cost  to  be  ex- 
tended over  a  number  of  years  in  divided  grants.  In  place  of  the 
smaller  sum  asked  for,  an  immediate  grant  of  one  million  dollars 
was  voluntarily  offered  and  given,  the  sentiment  in  the  legislature 
being  for  an  extension  of  the  services  rendered  by  the  hospital.  In 
the  history  of  state  university  requests  and  legislative  grants,  when 
did  the  like  occur  before?  Such  an  event  certainly  marks  a  new 
era. 

One  form  of  state  medicine — the  state  university  hospital — has, 


162  Indiana  University 

therefore,  shown  itself  practical  and  worthy.  It  has  won  the  con- 
fidence of  the  citizens  of  the  state  to  such  an  extent  that  it  is  now 
entering  upon  a  new  stage  of  progiess.  The  two  chief  clinical 
departments,  medicine  and  surgery,  have  been  put  upon  a  full-time 
basis,  with  salaried  clinicians  working  for  the  hospital  alone.  The 
rich,  as  well  as  the  poor,  are  to  be  treated  equally,  the  compensa- 
tion to  be  adjusted  to  ability  to  pay;  the  hospital,  itself,  is  to  be- 
come commercial  to  the  extent  of  paying  its  way  from  the  income 
received.  This  stage  of  development  is  still  experimental;  the 
outcome  will  be  watched  with  great  interest  by  all  other  medical 
schools,  particularly  those  of  the  state  universities.  Iowa  has 
already  followed  Michigan  to  the  extent  of  copying  the  laws  above 
mentioned,  furnishing  clinical  material  to  the  state  university 
hospital.  Upon  the  success  of  Michigan's  new  venture  will  depend 
the  action  of  other  schools.  It  is  evident  that  new  problems  are 
involved  in  the  new  scheme.  Under  the  old  plan  of  half-time 
clinicians  engaged  also  in  private  practice,  the  private  hospital 
grew  up  for  the  accommodation  of  the  well-to-do  excluded  by  law 
from  the  state  hospital,  but  who  desired  the  services  of  the  same 
body  of  clinicians.  Under  the  new  system  these  parasitic  institu- 
tions must  pass  away.  Will  the  old  commercialism,  however,  be 
replaced  by  another  form,  even  more  dangerous  to  medical  teach- 
ing and  research  than  the  divided  interests  of  the  old  situation? 
In  any  scheme  contemplating  a  division  of  profits  such  a  danger  is 
a  very  real  one;  but  with  a  fixed  salary  basis  it  could  not  exist. 
Undoubtedly  the  right  men  for  this  work  are  those  who  would 
welcome  a  fixed  adequate  salary,  with  the  added  opportunities 
for  teaching  and  research. 

In  closing,  some  form  of  state  medicine  seems  inevitable.  I 
believe  that  the  safest  form  would  be,  what  I  have  attempted  to 
outline  above,  a  system  of  state  hospitals,  or  a  hospital,  controlled 
by  what  should  be  the  most  enlightened  body  of  medical  meri  in 
the  state — the  faculty  of  the  state  university  medical  school — in 
other  words,  a  state  university  medicine.  What  Michigan  has 
accomplished  in  this  direction  is  also  possible  for  Indiana  University 
and  your  Medical  School.  Such  an  institution  in  Indiana  will  do 
what  it  has  done  for  the  University  of  Michigan,  it  will  bring  the 
citizens  of  the  state  into  a  closer  relation  with  the  University,  it 
will  make  them  more  sympathetic  with  its  needs,  lessen  opposition 
to  increased  taxation  and  greater  budgets,  and  make  for  greater 
understanding  and  appreciation  of  all  the  functions  of  the  Univer- 
sity. 


GRADUATE  MEDICAL  EDUCATION: 

EXPERIENCE  WITH  THE 

MINNESOTA  PLAN 


Elias  Potter  Lyon  was  born  at  Cambria,  Michigan,  October  20,  1867.  He 
received  the  B.S.  degree  at  Hillsdale  College  in  1891,  and  the  A.B.  in  1892;  the 
Ph.D.  at  the  University  of  Chicago,  1897;  the  honorary  M.D.  at  St.  Louis  Uni- 
versity in  1910;  the  LL.D.,  St.  Louis  University,  1920.  Dr.  Lyon  became  an 
instructor  in  Hillsdale  College  in  1890,  where  he  remained  for  two  years,  going 
from  there  to  the  Harvard  School,  of  Chicago.  From  1897  to  1900  he  was  in  the 
Bradley  Polytechnic  Institute  at  Peoria,  111.  He  became  assistant  professor  in 
Rush  Medical  College  in  1900,  which  position  he  held  for  four  years.  From  1901 
to  1904  he  was  also  assistant  professor  of  physiology  and  assistant  dean  in  the 
University  of  Chicago.  In  1904  he  became  professor  of  physiology  in  St.  Louis 
University  Medical  School,  where  be  became  dean  in  1907.  Since  1913  he 
has  been  professor  of  physiology  and  dean  of  the  University  of  Minnesota  Medi- 
cal School.  Dr.  Lyon  was  biologist  in  the  Cook  Greenland  Expedition  in  1894, 
and  investigator  for  the  United  States  Bureau  of  Fisheries  from  1908  to  1911. 
He  was  a  member  of  the  staff  of  the  Marine  Biological  Laboratory  for  ten  years. 
He  is  a  fellow  in  the  American  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Science,  a 
member  of  the  American  Physiological  Society,  of  the  Society  of  Naturalists,  and 
of  the  Society  for  Experimental  Biology  and  Medicine;  he  was  president  of  the 
Association  of  American  Medical  Colleges,  1913-14.  He  is  a  contributor  to  the 
American  Journal  of  Physiology  and  other  biological  publications. 


(163) 


GRADUATE  MEDICAL  EDUCATION: 

EXPERIENCE  WITH  THE 

MINNESOTA  PLAN 

By  ELIAS  POTTER  LYON 

MEDICAL  SPECIALISM  is  indispensable  and  the  training  of  special- 
ists is  of  vital  importance,  alike  to  the  medical  profession,  to  the 
general  public,  and  to  the  state.  I  propose  to  discuss  the  question 
of  the  education  of  specialists  in  general,  and  then  tell  you  what  we 
are  doing  as  regards  the  education  of  medical  specialists  at  the 
University  of  Minnesota. 

Let  us  note  first  how  specialists  are  trained  and  tagged  in  some 
other  professions. 

Consider  first  the  profession  of  college  teaching.  If  you  exam- 
ine the  faculty  list  of  any  of  our  great  colleges,  you  find  that  most 
of  the  professors  have  the  letters  Ph.D.  following  their  names. 
Others  are  masters  of  arts  or  science.  There  are  doctors  of  phil- 
osophy in  chemistry,  physics,  and  the  other  natural  sciences;  in 
history,  economics,  sociology;  in  language  and  literature.  Just 
what  does  this  degree  mean? 

First,  you  may  be  sure  that  in  almost  all  cases  the  Ph.D,  is  an 
earned  degree. 

Second,  you  may  be  certain  that  before  he  started  to  earn  his 
Ph.D.  the  student  had  a  fair  preparation,  as  evidenced  by  a  bach- 
elor's degree. 

Third,  the  Ph.D.  means  that  the  possessor  worked  for  three 
years  or  more  on  the  particular  subject  for  which  the  Ph.D.  was 
awarded.  It  means  that  he  also  acquired  a  thoro  working  know- 
ledge of  related  subjects.  If  he  is  a  Ph.D.  in  chemistry  he  did 
considerable  work  in  mathematics  and  physics,  because  without 
these  he  cannot  know  chemistry.  The  Ph.D.  indicates,  to  use  our 
familiar  medical  word,  that  the  holder  is  a  "specialist"  in  some  field 
of  knowledge. 

Fourth,  the  Ph.D.  connotes  something  which  is  of  special 
interest  to  this  audience  because  there  is  a  feeling  among  doctors 
of  medicine  against  the  word  "philosophy".  They  think  that  the 
Ph.D.  implies  impractical  theorizing,  a  detachment  from  the  world 
and  the  world's  affairs.  Some  men,  it  is  true,  may  be  impractical 
and  detached,  but  it  is  not  their  degrees  that  make  them  so.  On 

(165) 


166  Indiana  University 

the  contrary,  the  possession  of  the  Ph.D.  (and  this  is  the  fourth 
point  referred  to),  implies  the  possession  of  the  technique  of  the 
branch  of  knowledge  for  which  the  degree  was  conferred.  This  is 
quite  apparent  if  we  take  such  a  science  as  chemistry,  where 
acquaintance  with  the  methods  is  indispensable.  A  man  must  know 
how  to  use  the  methods,  else  he  is  not  a  chemist.  But  there  is  just 
as  truly  a  technic  of  history,  a  technic  of  mathematics,  a  technic  of 
archaeology. 

Fifth,  the  Ph.D.  implies  that  the  possessor  has  done  at  least 
one  piece  of  creditable  research,  his  doctoral  thesis.  This  again 
implies  that  he  is  familiar  with  some  of  the  original  literature,  knows 
how  to  work  in  a  library,  and  has  developed  some  critical  judgment. 

Sixth,  the  Ph.D.  placed  after  the  name  of  one  of  your  faculty 
implies  that  some  university  thru  its  responsible  experts  has  certi- 
fied to  all  of  the  foregoing.  Naturally  these  experts  have  found 
it  necessary  to  subject  the  candidate  to  some  sort  of  examination 
before  such  certification.  Thoro  written  and  oral  examinations 
before  faculty  committees  constitute  the  ordinary  mechanism  for 
the  purpose. 

Naturally,  your  University  in  selecting  a  professor  or  instructor 
cannot  look  upon  the  degree  alone  as  sufficient  qualification  for 
appointment,  but  at  least  the  degree  is  a  mark  of  serious  prepara- 
tion in  some  given  specialty.  And  the  graduate  school  which  con- 
ferred the  degree  is  an  organization  for  the  education  of  specialists. 

The  Minnesota  idea  or  experiment  is  merely  that  the  mechan- 
ism of  the  graduate  school  can  be  used  to  instruct,  standardize, 
and  certify  medical  specialists  exactly  as  well  as  scientific  and 
literary  specialists.  It  can  give  them  thoro  knowledge ;  it  can  give 
them  technical  experience ;  it  can  start  them  on  the  road  to  research. 

Some  medical  men  may  be  inclined  to  think  that  the  only  diag- 
nosis a  doctor  of  philosophy  in  a  teaching  position  is  able  to  make 
is  a  diagnosis  of  ignorance ;  and  that  his  only  prescription  is  a  dose 
of  mathematics  or  chemistry  or  Latin — as  the  case  may  be.  That 
his  only  death  certificates  are  flunk  notices;  and  that,  finally,  he  is 
engaged  in  a  despicable  form  of  contract  practice  for  a  starvation 
salary.  However,  most  of  you  on  a  little  more  reflection  will 
admit  that  in  the  crisis  of  war  the  university  scholar  was  able  to 
extend  expert  service  to  the  nation;  that  in  the  present  condition 
of  society  his  diagnosis  and  suggestions  should  be  sought ;  and  that 
the  present  drain  of  college  professors  into  business  and  industry 
indicates  that  their  specialized  training  and  knowledge  are  valuable 
in  the  world  of  affairs. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  167 

The  truth  is  that  what  the  world  needs  is  productive  scholarship 
as  exemplified  by  men  who  can  grapple  new  situations,  men  with  a 
broader  training  than  that  obtained  in  the  ordinary  college  or  in 
the  experience  of  business,  manufacturing  enterprises,  or  industrial 
processes.  The  graduate  school  selects,  trains,  and  certifies  such 
scholars.  No  institution  of  learning  is  really  a  university  unless  it 
supports  an  active  graduate  school  where  research  and  the  training 
of  investigators  are  the  primary  aims. 

If  we  turn  now  to  agriculture,  which  as  a  profession  is  based, 
like  medicine,  on  applied  science,  we  find  that  quite  generally  the 
certification  of  experts  has  taken  the  same  form  as  that  described 
for  the  expert  in  language,  literature,  or  science.  Doctor's  and 
master's  degrees  are  given  in  university  graduate  schools  in  such 
subjects  as  soil  chemistry,  animal  husbandry,  and  plant  pathology. 
The  holders  of  such  degrees  occupy  in  large  measure  the  prominent 
positions  in  college  work,  government  experiment  stations,  and 
private  highly  organized  agricultural  enterprises.  In  a  con- 
siderable number  of  cases  they  establish  offices  for  themselves  and 
offer  their  services  to  the  public  on  a  fee  basis  exactly  as  do  doctors 
of  medicine.  I  know  a  man  who  is  a  doctor  of  curative  and  pre- 
ventive medicine  for  timber.  Lumber  men  consult  him  with 
reference  to  tree  diseases,  and  railroads  call  him  to  "cure"  their 
ties  and  bridge  beams.  He  tells  them  what  "medicine"  to  use  in 
particular  situations,  and  they  actually  speak  of  this  as  timber 
"treatment". 

In  engineering,  specialization  begins  in  the  undergraduate 
course.  A  man  graduates  as  a  civil,  mechanical,  electrical,  mining, 
or  chemical  engineer.  This  is  safe  and  practicable  in  engineering 
because  the  young  engineer  is  not  likely  to  assume  any  heavy 
responsibility.  On  the  contrary,  the  young  doctor's  first  case  may 
be  a  life  or  death  affair. 

Quite  in  harmony  with  what  we  should  expect,  there  is  little 
real  graduate  work  in  engineering  and  little  research  in  engineer  ing 
schools.  The  same  thing  is  true  of  law,  in  which  self-made  specialism 
is  also  the  rule.  It  seems  to  me,  therefore,  that  we  in  medicine 
should  take  our  cue  for  graduate  work  from  the  sciences  and  agri- 
culture, rather  than  from  engineering  and  law. 

I  shall  now  try  to  make  clear  exactly  how  the  University  of 
Minnesota  has  adjusted  the  ideals  and  machinery  of  the  graduate 
school  to  train  medical  specialists. 

The  graduate  school  is  the  division  of  the  university  which  o^'1 
instruction  in  advance  of  the  bachelor  degree.     It  is  conse*uent  v 


168  Jn  (liana  University 

the  division  chiefly  concerned  with  research  and  with  the  training 
of  investigators  and  specialists  of  all  kinds.  The  dean  of  the 
graduate  school  is  Professor  Guy  Stanton  Ford,  head  of  the  depart- 
ment of  history.  The  school  has  an  executive  committee  repre- 
senting the  great  groups  of  subjects,  such  as  social  science,  natural 
science,  medicine,  and  agriculture.  It  has  a  faculty  consisting  of 
those  men  in  all  departments  of  the  university  who  have  been 
chosen  by  the  dean  and  executive  committee  as  fitted  to  give  ad- 
vanced instruction  and  to  train  research  students.  The  Mayo 
Foundation  for  Medical  Education  and  Research  is  a  part  of  the 
graduate  school,  and  certain  of  its  members  are  on  the  graduate 
school  faculty.  Similarly,  certain  members  of  the  faculty  of  the 
medical  school  are  members  of  the  graduate  school  faculty.  But 
membership  in  the  medical  faculty  does  not  necessarily  give  mem- 
bership on  the  graduate  faculty. 

All  graduate  work  is  conducted  under  general  rules  prescribed 
by  the  graduate  faculty,  but  the  detailed  control  of  each  great 
branch  is  under  a  special  committee;  for  example,  the  committee 
for  agriculture  and  the  committee  for  medicine.  The  latter  com- 
mittee consists  of  the  president  of  the  university,  the  deans  of  the 
graduate  and  medical  schools,  Director  Louis  B.  Wilson  of  the 
Mayo  Foundation,  Professors  J.  P.  Sedgwick,  C.  M.  Jackson,  J.  C. 
Litzenberg,  and  L.  G.  Rowntree  of  the  medical  school,  and  D.  C. 
Balfour,  W.  F.  Braasch,  and  M.  S.  Henderson  of  the  Mayo  Foun- 
dation. The  committee,  which  is  organized  as  two  subcommittees 
located  respectively  at  Minneapolis  and  Rochester,  is  the  immediate 
administrative  body  for  all  graduate  work  in  medicine  and  makes 
recommendations  to  the  dean  and  executive  committee  of  the 
graduate  school,  and  thru  them  to  the  board  of  regents,  on  the 
appointment  of  fellows,  the  appointment  of  members  of  the  grad- 
uate faculty,  the  conferring  of  degrees,  etc.  Particulaily  this 
committee  is  charged  with  recommending  the  annual  budget  of 
the  Mayo  Foundation. 

Under  this  organization  a  student  may  work  for  the  degree 
master  of  science  or  the  degree  doctor  of  philosophy  in  any  of  the 
pre-clinical  sciences  such  as  anatomy  or  pathology,  or  in  any  of  the 
clinical  branches.  For  admission  to  graduate  work  in  the  sciences 
a  bachelor's  degree  is  required;  for  work  in  the  clinical  branches  the 
M.D.  degree  from  a  "Class  A"  school  and  a  year  of  interneship  are 
required,  in  addition  to  the  bachelor's  degree  or  its  equivalent. 

Many  of  the  graduate  medical  students,  but  not  all,  hold 
fellowships.  By  this  is  meant  that  they  receive  small  annual 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  1GO 

salaries  and  are  expected  to  give  a  certain  amount  of  service.  At 
Minneapolis  the  fellows  assist  in  the  clinics,  or  in  teaching  medical 
students,  or  in  the  conduct  of  the  University  Health  Service.  The 
Burch  Fellow  assists  at  Dr.  Burch's  office.  There  is  a  new  fellow- 
ship in  tuberculosis  supported  by  the  Hennepin  County  Anti- 
Tuberculosis  Committee.  We  hope  to  see  a  large  number  of  such 
fellowships  gradually  developed  as  endowments  or  more  temporary 
gifts.  At  Rochester  the  fellows  are  assistants  in  the  Mayo  Clinic, 
St.  Mary's  Hospital,  and  the  various  laboratories. 

Educationally  the  service,  whether  teaching  or  assisting,  is 
valuable,  because  it  contributes  to  the  students'  knowledge  and 
power.  Economically  the  system  of  fellowships  finds  indorsement 
in  the  fact  that  few  men  are  able  financially  to  undertake  a  long 
graduate  course  after  the  six  years  of  the  regular  medical  course 
and  the  year  of  unpaid  interneship.  It  is  not  essential  to  the  plan, 
however,  that  all  graduate  students  hold  fellowships.  Some  pay 
their  own  way  and  carry  on  their  studies  without  obligation  of 
service. 

All  graduate  teaching  is  essentially  individual.  There  are  few 
classes;  few  required  lectures.  Every  student  is  under  a  faculty 
advisor  who  is  responsible  for  making  out  the  student's  program 
from  year  to  year.  Every  student  selects  his  major  subject  and 
also  a  minor  or  supporting  subject.  For  example,  major  in  path- 
ology and  minor  in  anatomy;  or  major  in  pediatrics  and  minor  in 
biochemistry.  The  student's  advisor  must  see  that  the  student 
gets  thoro,  all-round  training  in  his  major,  a  fair  knowledge  of  his 
minor;  and  also  sufficient  acquaintance  with  any  other  work  which 
may  be  fundamental  to  either  major  or  minor.  At  the  beginning 
of  the  second  year's  work  each  candidate  for  the  Ph.D.  is  required 
to  submit,  with  the  approval  of  his  advisor,  a  tentative  program 
for  his  entire  course,  which  requires  the  approval  of  the  graduate 
medical  committee. 

The  primary  purpose  of  the  graduate  school  is  to  make  produc- 
tive scholars.  Productive  scholars  must  be  able  to  earn  a  living; 
consequently  they  must  be  trained  as  skilled  specialists  in  practical 
technical  fields.  Really  tjiese  are  two  aspects  of  the  same  job 
which  the  graduate  school  must  do.  The  training  of  scholars  takes 
time;  hence  the  rule  requiring  at  least  two  or  three  years  for  an 
advanced  clinical  degree.  A  scholar  must  be  familiar  with  the 
literature  of  his  specialty;  hence  the  requirement  of  a  reading 
knowledge  of  French  and  German.  The  test  of  productive  scholar- 
ship is  original  investigation;  hence  a  thesis  involving  new  facts  in 


170  Indiana  University 

some  phase  of  the  major  subject  is  required.  The  certification 
of  advanced  scholarship  is  a  serious  responsibility;  hence  the 
graduate  school  demands  searching  written  and  oral  examinations 
of  all  candidates  for  the  Ph.D.  degree.  For  the  master's  degree  in 
the  clinical  branches  we  expect  as  thoro  training  in  diagnosis  and 
other  technical  procedures  as  for  the  Ph.D.  degree.  But  the  thesis 
and  the  final  examinations  are  not  so  exacting. 

These  in  general  are  the  requirements.  They  are  quite  different 
from  those  of  an  undergraduate  college.  There  is  no  hand  feeding, 
no  formal  reciting,  no  prescribed  lessons,  no  reporting  of  absences, 
no  routine  laboratory  exercises.  The  essential  environment  con- 
sists of  libraries,  laboratories,  and  clinical  material,  with  competent 
supervision — and,  above  all,  criticism.  The  student  with  his 
advisor  as  a  guide  is  turned  loose  to  educate  himself.  Mostly  he 
learns  by  doing,  which  is  the  natural  way.  If  he  has  stuff  in  him, 
he  arrives.  If  he  is  only  an  imitator  or  absorber  or  bluffer,  he  shows 
what  he  is. 

In  the  winter  quarter,  the  University  of  Minnesota  had  169 
graduate  students  in  medicine  who  were  candidates  for  higher 
degrees,  37  of  whom  were  at  Minneapolis  and  132  at  Rochester. 
There  were  also  23  graduate  students  at  Rochester  and  a  few  at 
Minneapolis  who  were  not  candidates,  for  advanced  degrees.  This 
is  the  largest  number  of  strictly  graduate  medical  students  any- 
where. About  20  will  come  up  for  degrees  at  the  coming  commence- 
ment. The  student  body  is  of  a  high  order.  There  are  many  more 
applicants  than  available  places,  particularly  in  surgery,  urology, 
pediatrics,  and  oto-laryngology. 

Now,  if  you  have  followed  this  hasty  sketch  you  will  see  that 
in  a  sense  every  medical  school  and  every  good  hospital  is  a  center 
of  graduate  work.  There  are  assistants  in  the  laboratories  and 
clinics  who  render  service  and  receive  in  many  cases  small  salaries, 
but  who  are  there  primarily  to  learn.  However,  you  who  are 
teachers  do  not  usually  think  of  these  men  as  students.  You 
assume  no  responsibility  for  their  education.  You  do  not  lay  out 
definite  work  for  them;  especially  you  do  not  look  to  their  training 
in  the  fundamental  sciences.  You  may  favor  research,  but  few 
feel  it  their  duty  to  insist  upon  it  as  part  of  the  training  of  assistants. 
Your  institution  takes  no  responsibility  for  these  men;  does  not 
acknowledge  them,  when  they  leave  you,  as  alumni.  Many  of 
them  go  out  well  trained,  but  you  have  no  standards  which  they 
may  set  before  themselves  and  which  you  may  enforce.  There  is 
no  goal  to  be  striven  for.  There  is  no  certification  of  quality  which 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  171 

either  the  man  can  value  or  the  public  can  rely  upon.  It  is  just  in 
these  particulars  that  we  believe  the  Minnesota  plan  of  supervised, 
formal  education  to  be  superior  to  the  hit-or-miss  method  under 
which  most  specialists  in  this  country — practically  all,  indeed, 
worthy  of  the  name — gained  their  right  to  that  title  of  distinction. 
To  accomplish  our  purpose  we  have  to  arrange  matters  that 
would  not  be  thought  of  unless  we  had  in  mind  the  ends  to  be 
attained.  We  know  that  good  training  in  the  laboratory  branches 
is  essential,  and  that  the  undergraduate  medical  student  gets  only 
the  elements  of  these  subjects.  We  have  to  arrange  that  the  grad- 
uate students  shall  have  time  for  such  work;  that  materials  and  a 
place  to  work  are  provided;  that  instructors  are  at  hand  when 
needed.  At  all  times  about  twenty-five  graduate  students,  many 
of  whom  are  majoring  in  clinical  branches,  are  at  work  in  the 
department  of  anatomy.  More  are  in  pathology;  some  are  in 
biochemistry.  The  department  of  physiology  gives  advanced 
work  in  optics  for  students  of  ophthalmology,  and  so  on.  This 
adds  work,  but  also  interest  and  enthusiasm  to  our  laboratory 
departments. 

Then  there  is  the  thesis,  required  for  reasons  already  set  forth, 
and  highly  valued  in  our  scheme  of  graduate  medical  education.  A 
student  cannot  do  research  if  he  is  kept  busy  all  day  examining 
patients.  We  have  to  arrange  time  for  research.  At  the  Mayo 
Foundation  the  fellows  are  on  a  "double  shift".  One  group  works 
in  the  clinic  mornings  and  the  other  afternoons.  Every  man  has 
several  hours  each  day  for  work  in  the  laboratories  and  for  seminars, 
demonstrations,  reading,  etc.  At  Minneapolis  our  system  is  less 
formal,  but  we  see  to  it  that  ample  time  is  provided  for  these  pur- 
poses. You  must  do  this  if  you  wish  to  produce  a  scholar  rather 
than  a  technician. 

Our  motto  that  these  men  are  students  and  not  employees  or 
assistants  or  servants  is  kept  always  before  us  in  considering  their 
welfare.  One  of  the  Pediatrics'  fellows  is  now  in  New  York  for 
some  special  study.  His  stipend  goes  on.  Dr.  Jackson  tells  me 
he  recently  found  one  of  the  Mayo  fellows  in  the  Surgeon-General's 
library  digging  away  on  his  thesis  bibliography.  His  expenses  were 
being  paid  by  the  Mayo  Foundation. 

In  clinical  training,  also,  supervision  is  exercised.  In  surgery 
care  is  taken  that  operative  skill  is  not  put  before  diagnostic  ability. 
In  medicine,  the  comparative  study  of  complete  histories  of  cases  in 
large  groups  and  the  laboratory  side  are  insisted  upon.  In  pedi- 
atrics, experience  in  contagious  diseases  is  required.  Just  now  one 


372  Indiana  University 

of  the  Pediatrics'  fellows  is  serving  as  resident  in  contagious  diseases 
at  the  Minneapolis  General  Hospital,  and  the  university  continues 
his  stipend.  Another  is  to  go  there  as  resident  in  medicine. 

In  our  opinion  it  is  the  graduate  school  with  its  definite  require- 
ments and  rigid  rules  which  influences  students  and  faculty  alike 
toward  concrete  ends  well  thought  out  in  advance.  One  has  but 
to  note  the  responsibility  which  the  professor  feels  for  his  graduate 
students  and  the  pride  he  exhibits  over  their  achievements  in  order 
to  be  convinced  of  the  advantages  of  our  plan  of  organization. 
Once  a  quarter  at  Rochester  each  student  is  graded  by  his  advisor 
and  other  instructors  on  the  basis  of  their  personal  knowledge. 
This  tends  to  a  feeling  of  responsibility  on  the  part  of  instructors 
and  creates  a  constantly  critical  as  well  as  helpful  attitude. 

The  University  of  Minnesota  began  the  plan  of  graduate  medi- 
cal teaching  six  years  ago.  The  Mayo  Foundation  became  part 
of  the  university  five  years  ago.  The  first  degrees  were  confeired 
three  years  ago.  The  war  interfered  with  our  work,  but  the  fol- 
lowing list  gives  the  names  and  thesis  subjects  of  the  men  graduated 
in  clinical  branches  during  the  past  three  years: 

G.  L.  McWhorter,  Ph.D.  (surgery):  "Some  Clinical  and  Experi- 
mental Observations  on  Gastric  Acidity". 

Rood  Taylor,  Ph.D.  (pediatrics):     "Hunger  in  Infants". 

H.  W.  Woltmann,  Ph.D.  (neurology):  "The  Brain  Changes 
associated  with  Pernicious  Anemia". 

R.  E.  Morris,  Ph.D.  (medicine):  "The  Graphic  Recording  of 
Reflexes,  Clonus,  and  Tremors". 

E.  L.  Crispin,  M.S.  (medicine):     "Clinical  Studies  in  Abdominal 
Disorders". 

F.  B.   McMahon,   M.S.   (surgery):     "Primary  Pulmonary  Carci- 
noma and  Its  Roentgen  Diagnosis". 

H.  W.  Meyerding,  M.S.  (orthopedic  surgery):  "Cystic  and  Fibro- 
cystic  Disease  of  the  Long  Bones". 

A.  W.  Adson,  M.S.  (surgery) :  "Experimental  and  Clinical  Results 
of  Nerve  Anastomoses". 

V.  C.  Hunt,  M.S.  (surgery):     "Torsion  of  Appendices  Epiploicae". 

F.  A.  Olson,  M.S.  (surgery):  "A  Study  of  the  Roentgenographic 
Findings  in  Renal  Tuberculosis". 

J.  de  J.  Pemberton,  M.S.  (surgery):     "Blood  Transfusion". 

C.  E.  Nixon,  M.S.  (neurology):  "The  Pathogenesis  of  the  Lesions 
of  the  Nervous  System  found  in  Cases  of  Pernicious  Anemia". 

Carleton  Dederer,  M.S.  (surgery):  "Transplantation  of  the  Kid- 
ney and  Ovary". 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  173 

« 
E.  J.  Horgan,  M.S.  (surgery):     "The  Histogenesis  of  Carcinoma  in 

the  Islets  of  the  Pancreas". 

I.  W.  McDowell,  M.S.  (surgery) :     "Cancer  of  the  Stomach". 
W.  O.  Ott,  M.S.  (surgery):     "Surgical  Aneurysms". 
W.  J.  Tucker,  M.S.  (surgery) :     "Infections  of  the  Kidney". 
T.  B.  Reeves,  M.S.  (surgery) :     "A  Study  of  the  Arteries  Supplying 

the  Stomach  and  Duodenum  and  their  Relation  to  Ulcer". 
E.  H.  Weld,  M.S.  (surgery):     "Renal  Absorption  with  Particular 

Reference  to  Pyelographic  Mediums". 
J.  L.  Butsch,  Ph.D.  (surgery):     "Ulcers  of  the  Gastro- Intestinal 

Tract  with  Special  Reference  to  Gastro- Jejunal  Ulcers". 
L.  W.  Barry,  Ph.D.  (obstetrics  and  gynecology):     "The  Effects  of 

Inanition  in  the  Pregnant  Albino  Rat  with  Special  Reference 

to  the  Changes  in  the  Relative  Weights  of  the  Various  Parts, 

Systems,  and  Organs  of  the  Offspring". 

"Not  a  very  formidable  list",  you  may  say.  But  they  are  all 
good  men.  Five  of  them  are  now  on  our  medical  faculty.  One  is 
on  the  Rush  Medical  Faculty.  Several  are  on  the  staff  of  the  Mayo 
Clinic.  -When  other  universities  begin  to  call  men  of  this  type  of 
training  to  their  chairs,  we  shall  have  medical  faculties  which  are 
more  than  selected  representatives  of  the  local  practitioners.  Our 
medical  faculties  like  our  arts  and  science  faculties  will  be  cosmo- 
politan bodies  of  produclive  scholars. 

Perhaps  we  may  even  solve  the  perplexing  problem  of  the  full- 
time  teacher  in  the  clinical  branches  by  creating  a  race  of  doctors 
interested  in  the  pursuit  of  science  and  in  the  academic  life!  This 
may  be  a  vain  dream,  but  during  our  long  polar  winters  in  Minne- 
sota it  is  pleasant  to  dream. 

However,  we  naturally  expect  that  most  of  our  graduates  will 
go  into  special  practice.  We  think  they  are  prepared.  They  may 
not,  at  graduation,  have  had  as  much  clinical  experience  as  those 
who  spend  an  equal  time  as  assistants  in  a  big  clinic.  But  we 
believe  that  the  better  foundation  in  science  and  theory,  the  stim- 
ulus of  systematic  study,  and  the  experience  in  research  more  than 
counterbalance.  We  know  that  the  practitioner  will  be  in  contact 
with  cases  all  his  life;  with  teaching  laboratories,  perhaps  never 
again. 

Now  the  reaction  of  some  of  you  to  what  I  am  saying  may  be 
somewhat  like  this:  "Oh,  this  is  a  fine  scheme.  But  it  must  take 
a  lot  of  money.  A  rich  university  like  Minnesota  can  carry  it  out, 
but  we  could  not."  That's  just  where  you  make  a  mistake. 


174  Indiana  University 

The  University  of  Minnesota  is  not  rich.  It  is  true  that  we 
have  the  splendid  facilities  of  the  Mayo  Foundation.  But  without 
that  and  without  more  money  than  the  Medical  School  needs  for 
undergraduate  teaching,  we  could  do  something  worth  while. 

Every  major  university  has  a  graduate  school.  Probably  your 
laboratory  departments  of  the  medical  school  are  already  part  of  it. 
You  have  but  to  organize  your  clinical  departments  in  relation  to 
the  graduate  school,  lay  out  your  courses  of  study,  enroll  your 
instructors,  residents,  and  other  existing  clinical  assistants  as 
students,  and  think  of  them  and  treat  them  primarily  as  students. 
As  soon  as  you  create  this  atmosphere  for  faculty  and  students 
alike,  you  will  have  a  graduate  school  of  medicine  on  the  Minne- 
sota model.  On  account  of  the  informal  nature  of  the  instructio  n 
and  the  use  of  existing  facilities,  the  expense  will  be  slightly,  if  an  y, 
greater.  We  believe  it  .will  pay  you  to  consider  this  subject. 

Naturally  the  question  arises  whether  the  universities  of  the 
country  could  supply  the  need  for  specialists  if  all  were  to  be 
trained  as  I  have  outlined.  Can  we  expect  that  at  some  time  an 
advanced  degree  will  be  the  universal  title  to  specialism? 

The  committee  on  graduate  work  of  the  Council  on  Medical 
Education  has  recently  reported,  thru  its  chairman,  Dr.  Louis  B. 
Wilson,  that  there  are  above  2,000  assistantships,  residencies,  etc., 
in  the  "Class  A"  medical  schools.  This  would  be  a  considerable 
body  of  students  if  organized  and  instructed  as  our  plan  demands. 
It  is  from  this  body  that  specialists  have  been  and  are  chiefly 
recruited.  But  is  this  number  adequate? 

Dr.  Wilson's  figures  show  235  such  places  in  ophthalmology  and 
oto-laryngology.  However,  Dr.  Edward  Jackson,  of  Denver,  has 
estimated  that  this  country  needs  10,000  ophthalmologists — one  to 
10,000  population — and  that  400  new  ones  will  be  required  each 
year.  I  think  it  will  be  agreed  that  the  existing  clinical  facilities 
of  medical  schools  would  not  properly  train  such  a  number.  But 
does  that  mean  that  the  universities  should  not  attempt  to  meet 
the  need  nor  contribute  the  great  weight  of  their  influence  as 
examining  and  standardizing  institutions?  I  think  not. 

In  the  first  place,  the  universities  constitute  the  only  place 
where  training  in  the  science  laboratories  can  be  obtained.  They 
must  hold  out  the  necessity  of  such  training  for  specialists  and  pre- 
pare themselves  to  offer  it.  The  medical  teachers,  both  laboratory 
and  clinical,  must  stand  ready  to  supervise  research,  approve  theses, 
and  offer  final  examinations.  As  for  clinical  training,  it  matters 
little  where  it  is  obtained,  provided  it  is  good;  and  the  graduate 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  175 

school  is  broad-minded  in  the  matter  of  in  absentia  study.  I  offer 
the  suggestion  that,  gradually,  strong  clinics  all  over  the  country 
may  become  affiliated  with  graduate  schools,  and  their  assistant- 
ships  take  the  form  of  fellowships  under  the  Minnesota  plan.  The 
university,  of  course,  must  assume  the  responsibility  for  the  ade- 
quacy of  the  instruction  and  for  the  final  certification  of  the  student. 
But  I  believe  this  is  a  legitimate  function  of  a  university  which 
less  and  less  will  be  a  cloister,  and  more  and  more  a  part  of  the 
world.  Such  a  plan,  universally  carried  out,  would  at  length  make 
the  universities  the  training  camps  for  medical  specialism,  just  as 
they  are  now  for  pure  science. 

We  are,  perhaps,  about  to  take  a  significant  step  in  this  direc- 
tion at  Minnesota.  The  chief  of  our  department  of  ophthalmology 
and  oto-laryngology,  Dr.  W.  R.  Murray,  has  outlined  a  one-year 
course  in  laboratory  and  theoretical  work  for  prospective  specialists 
in  his  field.  Very  little  clinical  work  would  be  included,  the  students 
being  expected  to  get  that  later  in  special  clinics  or  hospitals  for 
eye,  ear,  nose,  and  throat.  No  degree  or  certificate  would  be  given 
for  the  one-year  course;  but  one  has  but  to  imagine  a  student,  after 
this  year,  securing  the  privilege  of  in  absentia  registration  in  an 
approved  clinic,  selecting  a  topic  for  research  and  carrying  it  to 
completion  in  a  satisfactory  manner,  and  finally  passing  satisfac- 
tory examinations  in  accordance  with  the  rules  of  the  graduate 
school  in  order  to  obtain  a  degree  from  the  University  of  Minne- 
sota. It  is  not  at  all  impossible  that  this  may  happen  in  partic- 
ular instances.  Personally,  I  hope  it  will  happen. 

You  will  note  that  I  have  said  nothing  of  short  courses  nor  of 
the  so-called  postgraduate  schools  existing  apart  from  universities. 
The  Committee  of  the  Council  of  Medical  Education,  already 
referred  to,  has  recently  visited  all  such  schools;  and  you  are 
referred  to  the  excellent  report  about  to  be  published.  Suffice  it 
that  these  schools  chiefly  supply  continuation  courses  for  general 
practitioners  and  extension  courses  for  men  already  partially  trained 
in  a  clinical  specialty.  "Few  [postgraduate]  schools  attempt  to  give 
complete  special  preparation  for  practice  in  limited  clinical  fields." 

That  there  is  need  of  opportunities  for  practitioners  to  obtain 
additional  training  in  short  courses  there  can  be  no  doubt.  But  I 
cannot  see  how  medical  schools  with  undergraduate  classes  can 
supply  this  need.  What  is  required  for  the  practitioner  on  vaca- 
tion is  well  organized  class  instruction  for  small  groups,  with  ample 
clinical  material  for  illustrative  purposes.  The  undergraduate 
medical  school  can  fit  long-term  graduate  students  into  its  organi- 


176  Indiana  University 

zation  as  assistants  and  teaching  fellows  to  the  actual  strengthen- 
ing of  undergraduate  teaching.  But  it  cannot  admit  groups  of 
short-time  students  in  any  such  way.  The  medical  school  may 
admit  physicians  to  regular  classes  and  clinics  and  to  its  laboratories. 
It  may  organize  summer  courses,  but  it  can  hardly  be  expected  to 
do  more. 

My  notion  is,  therefore,  that  the  short  courses  for  practitioners 
should  be  developed  in  special  schools  organized  for  the  purpose.  I 
do  not  like  the  name  "postgraduate",  and  perhaps  a  better  one  can 
be  found.  In  the  great  cities  there  are  hospital  facilities  not  used 
for  undergraduate  medical  instruction.  They  ought  to  be  used  for 
practitioner  courses.  The  important  question  is  organization  and 
staff.  As  long  as  only  fees  are  available,  the  best  results  are  far 
away. 

I  would  like  to  be  turned  loose  in  New  York  with  a  free  hand 
and  five  million  dollars  of  endowment.  I  would  organize  short 
courses  for  practitioners  with  competent  paid  instructors.  I  would 
tie  up  the  school  with  the  extension  department  of  some  university, 
for  there  is  where  short-course  instruction  belongs.  But  I  would 
have  all  my  full-time  assistants  enroll  in  the  graduate  school  under 
the  Minnesota  plan.  With  this  two-edged  sword  I  should  expect 
to  make  some  havoc  with  hydra-headed  ignorance.  But  this 
again  is  a  cold-storage  dream,  which  we  will  now  carefully  place 
next  to  the  ammonia  coils  in  the  archives  of  this  meeting.  Perhaps 
fifty  years  from  now  someone  may  bring  it  out  and  say  "what  a 
good  suggestion  that  is,  and  in  such  a  good  state  of  preservation!" 

Having  wound  up  and  run  down,  it  only  remains  to  stop.  I  shall 
be  satisfied  if  I  can  strike  twelve  before  the  pendulum  ceases  to 
swing. 

1.  Specialism  is  a  necessary  and  permanent  part  of  medicine. 

2.  The  education  of  specialists  is  very  important. 

3.  All   prospective   specialists   need   further   training   in   the 
laboratory  sciences. 

4.  All   prospective  specialists  should  learn  the  history  and 
literature  of  their  field. 

5.  All  prospective  specialists  should  learn  research  methods. 

6.  As  many  specialists  as  possible  should  be  competent  and 
continuous  contributors  to  the  specialty. 

7.  Every  medical  specialist  should  be  a  competent  clinician. 

8.  The  university  is  the  best  organization  for  giving  these 
various  sorts  of  training. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  177 

9.  The  university  should  standardize,  supervise,  and  certify, 
with  appropriate  degrees,  this  training. 

10.  The  graduate  school  was  organized  for  just  this  purpose, 
so  far  as  science  and  language  are  concerned. 

11.  The  training  of  medical  specialists  under  the  graduate 
school  organizalion  and  ideals  is  the  Minnesota  plan. 

12.  The  Minnesota  plan  works. 


THE  THOMAS  JEFFERSON  THEORY  OF 
EDUCATION 


Samuel  Moffett  Ralston  was  born  in  Tuscarawas  county,  Ohio,  December  1 
1857,  and  is  a  graduate  of  the  Central  Indiana  Normal  College  (Danville).  He 
was  admitted  to  the  Indiana  bar  in  1886,  and  practiced  at  Lebanon  until  he 
became  governor  of  Indiana  on  the  Democratic  ticket  in  1913.  During  Gov- 
ernor Ralston's  administration  the  levy  for  the  state  educational  institution 
fund  was  raised  from  two  and  three-fourths  cents  on  the  hundred  dollars  to 
seven  cents.  Of  this  amount  Indiana  University  received  by  this  act  two  and 
four-fifths  cents,  instead  of  one  cent,  on  each  hundred  dollars  of  taxable  property. 
(The  General  Assembly  of  1921  passed  an  act  which  changes  these  provisions 
to  a  certain  extent.)  Since  1917  Mr.  Ralston  has  practiced  law  in  Indianapolis. 


(179) 


THE  THOMAS  JEFFERSON  THEORY  OF 
EDUCATION 

By  SAMUEL  MOFFETT  RALSTON 

THOMAS  JEFFERSON  was  an  advocate  of  the  popular  will.  This 
is  another  way  of  saying  that  he  stood  for  the  rule  of  the  people. 
To  the  outside  world,  as  well  as  to  the  citizenship  of  the  American 
Republic,  no  other  man  in  this  country  represents,  in  so  high  a 
degree,  faith  in  the  masses  as  does  Jefferson.  He  was  born  an 
aristocrat,  yet  he  was  thru  and  thru  a  commoner.  Instances  can 
be  cited  of  men  born  in  the  humblest  walks  of  life  who  afterwards 
became  aristocrats.  Argument  does  not  have  to  be  addressed  to  a 
thorogoing  American  to  convince  him  that  men  of  the  former  class 
are  immeasurably  superior  as  citizens  of  this  country  to  those  of 
the  latter  class.  This  is  necessarily  true,  else  the  theory  of  our 
government  is  false. 

Jefferson's  devotion  to  the  interest — the  common  interest — of 
all  the  people  is  seen  underlying  every  great  measure  he  ever  advo- 
cated. In  his  first  draft  of  the  Declaration  of  American  Inde- 
pendence he  showed  his  abhorence  of  human  slavery,  altho  his  senti- 
ments as  expressed  were  not  retained  in  the  Declaration  as  finally 
adopted.  Long  before  any  of  his  contemporaries  saw  the  evil  of 
the  system^  he  declared  in  opposition  to  a  measure  of  the  Virginia 
legislature,  which  did  not  contain  an  emancipation  provision: 

What  a  stupendous,  what  an  incomprehensible  machine  is  man,  who  can 
endure  toil,  famine,  strifes,  imprisonment,  and  death  itself,  in  vindication  of  his 
own  liberty,  and,  the  next  moment,  be  deaf  to  all  those  motives  whose  power  sup- 
ported him  through  his  trial,  and  inflict  on  his  fellow  men  a  bondage,  one  hour 
of  which  is  fraught  with  more  misery  than  ages  of  that  which  he  rose  in  rebellion 
to  oppose. 

Lincoln  believed,  however,  that  the  Declaration  of  Independence 
as  it  came  from  the  pen  of  Jefferson,  with  its  slight  modifications, 
was  broad  enough  to  embrace  all  men  of  whatsoever  color,  for  in 
his  opposition  to  the  spread  of  slavery  he  made  this  reference  to 
Jefferson  and  the  Declaration  of  Independence: 

All  honor  to  Jefferson,  to  the  men  who,  in  concrete  pressure  of  a  struggle 
for  national  independence  by  a  single  people  had  the  coolness,  forecast  and 
capacity  to  introduce  into  a  mere  revolutionary  document  an  abstract  truth, 
applicable  to  all  men  in  all  times,  and  so  to  embalm  it  there  that  today  and  in 
all  days  to  come  it  shall  be  a  rebuke  and  a  stumbling  block  to  the  very  harbinger 
of  reappearing  tyranny  and  oppression. 

(181) 


182  Indiana  University 

If  the  great  emancipator  were  living  today,  he  would  doubt- 
less not  be  offended  at  the  promulgation  of  truths  "applicable  to 
all  men  in  all  times"  and  designed  to  broaden  the  sweep  of  civili- 
zation and  to  keep  the  world  at  peace. 

The  references  I  have  thus  made  to  Jefferson  are  quite  sufficient 
to  show  that  he  would  not  have  been  true  to  his  nature  or  loyal 
to  his  conception  of  truth  and  the  underlying  principles  of  our 
government  if  he  had  not  been  an  advocate  of  an  educational  system 
broad  enough  to  embrace  all  the  people.  He  was  such  an  advocate 
and  a  very  effective  one. 

Considering  the  times  in  which  and  the  conditions  under  which 
Jefferson  lived,  I  doubt  if  this  country  has  produced  a  man  whose 
contribution  to  the  cause  of  education  has  equaled  his,  and  yet 
our  educators  and  schools  of  today  are  giving  him  but  little,  if  any, 
credit  for  his  labors  in  this  field  of  public  service. 

Last  Saturday  I  examined  one  of  the  latest  encyclopedias  and 
six  other  separate  volumes  on  the  subject  of  education  and  I  found 
a  reference  in  only  one  of  these  connecting  Jefferson's  name  with 
that  subject.  That  reference  was  this  quotation  from  him  on  the 
relation  of  democracy  to  education: 

There  are  two  subjects,  which  I  claim  a  right  to  further,  as  long  as  I  breathe, 
the  public  education  and  the  subdivision  of  counties  into  wards.  I  consider  the 
continuance  of  republican  government  as  absolutely  hanging  on  these  two  hooks. 

WILLIAM  AND  MARY  COLLEGE 

Jefferson  was  an  alumnus  of  William  and  Mary  College.  He 
was  always  strongly  attached  to  his  Alma  Mater,  but  he  did  not 
think  it  was  pursuing  as  broad  lines  as  in  justice  to  itself  and  the 
the  public  it  should  adopt.  Holding  these  views,  he  first  attracted 
attention  to  his  interest  in  education  when,  in  1776,  he  proposed  a 
revision  of  the  curriculum  of  this  institution  with  striking  innova- 
tions : 

1.  A  chair  of  modern  languages — and  among  modern  lan- 
guages he  included  Anglo-Saxon,  which  he  truly  urged  was  simply 
"old  English". 

2.  In  the  foundation  of  this  school,  provision  was  made  for  a 
school  for  Indian  boys.     Jefferson  proposed  as  a  substitute  for  this 

the  appointment  of  a  missionary  who  should  visit  the  Indian  tribes  and  investi- 
gate their  laws,  customs,  religions,  traditions,  and  more  particularly  their  lan- 
guages, constructing  grammars  thereof,  as  well  as  may  be,  and  copious  vocabu- 
laries. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume 


183 


The  work  he  sought  to  have  undertaken  in  1776  by  this  insti- 
tution of  learning  was  entered  upon  a  hundred  years  afterwards 
by  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology.  If  it  had  been  started  in  Jefferson's 
time,  we  might  now  know  a  great  deal  that  is  hopelessly  lost.  The 
suggestion  of  the  study  of  Anglo-Saxon,  which  Jefferson  always 
insisted  on,  and  which  is  now  adopted  in  various  colleges,  was  the 
first  made  in  this  country. 

BILL  FOR  DIFFUSION  OF  KNOWLEDGE 

It  was  three  years  subsequent  to  his  attempt  to  change  the 
curriculum  of  his  Alma  Mater  that  he  first  attracted  in  a  broad 
sense  public  attention  to  his  passion  for  an  educated  citizenship. 
This  he  did  by  introducing  in  1779  in  the  Legislature  of  Virginia 
"A  Bill  for  the  More  General  Diffusion  of  Knowledge".  He  was 
then  but  thirty-three  years  old  and  had  never  been  overseas  to  get 
any  of  his  ideas  from  foreign  countries.  The  preamble  to  this 
measure  set  forth  most  lucidly,  and,  I  think  most  eloquently,  Jef- 
ferson's reason  for  believing  that  the  happiness  of  mankind  depends 
upon  a  system  of  education  broad  and  rational  enough  to  afford  the 
people  the  means  of  enlightenment.  I  quote  a  part  of  it : 

And  whereas  it  is  generally  true  that  that  people  will  be  happiest  whose  laws  are 
best,  and  are  best  administered,  and  that  laws  will  be  wisely  formed,  and  honestly 
administered,  in  proportion  as  those  who  form  and  administer  them  are  wise  and 
honest;  whence  it  becomes  expedient  for  promoting  the  public  happiness  that 
those  persons,  whom  nature  hath  endowed  with  genius  and  virtue,  should  be 
rendered  by  liberal  education  worthy  to  receive,  and  able  to  guard  the  sacred 
deposits  of  the  rights  and  liberties  of  their  fellow  citizens,  and  that  they  should  be 
called  to  that  charge  without  regard  to  wealth,  birth  or  other  accidental  condition 
or  circumstance;  but  the  indigence  of  the  greater  number  disabling  them  from  so 
educating,  at  their  own  expence,  those  of  their  children  whom  nature  hath  fitly 
formed  and  disposed  to  become  useful  instruments  for  the  public,  it  is  better  that 
such  should  be  sought  for  and  educated  at  the  common  expence  of  all,  than  that 
the  happiness  of  all  should  be  confined  to  the  weak  or  wicked. 

Under  this  law  the  qualified  voters  of  every  county  were  required 
to  choose  annually  three  of  the  most  honest  and  able  men  of  their 
county  as  aldermen,  whose  duty  it  was  to  divide  their  county 
into  hundreds,  an  English  term,  regulating  the  size  thereof  so 
that  they  would 

contain  a  convenient  number  of  children  to  make  up  a  school,  and  be  of  such 
convenient  size  that  all  the  children  within  each  hundred  may  daily  attend  the 
school  to  be  established  therein. 

In  this  provision  is  seen  the  principle  of  local  self-government. 
This  law  set  forth  the  branches  that  should  be  taught  in  these 


184  Indiana  University 

schools.  They  were  reading,  writing,  and  common  arithmetic. 
Jefferson  was  always  partial  to  a  study  of  history.  He  appreciated 
keenly  the  great  advantages  to  be  derived  from  a  study  thereof, 
but  in  establishing  his  system  of  education  he  was  fought  at  every 
turn  by  those  who  were  opposed  to  being  taxed  for  popular  educa- 
tion. It  behooved  him,  therefore,  to  devise  a  system  that  would 
enable  children  attending  the  primary  schools  to  acquire  therein 
all  the  knowledge  possible.  So  he  wisely  provided  that  instruction 
in  reading  should  be  given  from  books  that  would  impart  a  know- 
ledge of  Grecian,  Roman,  English,  and  American  history.  Not  a 
bad  idea  to  be  followed  today  and  it  is  now,  I  am  glad  to  see,  in  a 
measure  being  adopted. 

All  free  children  of  both  sexes  were  entitled  to  receive  these 
educational  advantages  free  of  charge  for  three  years,  and  beyond 
this  period,  at  their  own  expense,  if  they  or  those  over  them  chose. 
This  provision  for  the  coeducation  of  boys  and  girls  preceded  by 
ten  years  the  time  when  Boston  first  allowed  girls  to  attend  her 
public  schools.  How  the  ears  of  this  "hub"  of  culture  could  be 
made  to  burn  by  comment  on  this  fact  at  a  suffragist  meeting. 

SCHOOL  SUPERVISION 

Jefferson  was  far-sighted  enough  to  see  that  even  a  law  creating 
an  educational  system  for  all  the  people  would  result  in  but  very 
little  good  to  the  public  unless  it  was  wisely  operated.  He,  there- 
fore, made  provision  for  a  supervision  of  these  local  institutions 
on  which  we  have  made  but  little,  if  any,  improvements.  Under 
this  law 

Over  every  ten  of  these  schools  ....  an  overseer  shall  be  appointed 
annually  by  the  aldermen  at  their  first  meeting,  eminent  for  his  learning,  integrity, 
and  fidelity  to  the  commonwealth,  whose  business  and  duty  it  shall  be,  from  time 
to  time,  to  appoint  a  teacher  to  teach  school,  who  shall  give  assurance  of  fidelity 
to  the  commonwealth,  and  to  remove  him  as  he  shall  see  cause;  to  visit  every 
school  once  in  every  half  year  at -the  least;  to  examine  the  scholars;  see  that  any 
general  plan  of  reading  and  instruction  recommended  by  the  visiters  of  William 
and  Mary  College  shall  be  observed ;  and  to  superintend  the  conduct  of  the  teacher 
in  everything  relative  to  his  school. 

The  standard  for  measuring  an  overseer  of  these  primary  schools 
on  the  mountain  sides  and  in  the  valleys  of  the  Old  Dominion  was 
certainly  as  exacting  as  are  the  qualifications  we  require  for  our 
county  superintendents.  The  overseer  was  to  be  a  man  eminent 
for  his  learning.  Certainly  we  are  not  demanding  anything  beyond 
this  in  our  school  superintendents  in  that  respect.  He  also  had 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  185 

to  be  "eminent  for  his  fidelity  to  the  commonwealth".     We  make  no 
such  requirement  of  our  superintendents  today. 

"Fidelity  to  the  commonwealth"  is  a  happy  and  most  suggestive 
phrase.  When  we  induct  a  man  into  public  office  we  have  him  to 
take  an  oath  to  support  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  and 
the  constitution  of  Indiana,  but  we  are  nevfcr  over-scrutinizing 
as  to  what  the  facts  show  as  to  his  fidelity  to  the  commonwealth. 
Under  Jefferson's  plan  "fidelity"  was  also  a  qualification  for  a 
primary  teacher.  He  believed  that  the  virtues  of  a  state  should  be 
reflected  by  the  mind  and  heart  of  an  instructor,  and  that  unless 
they  were  he  was  not  a  safe  guide  for  children. 

GRAMMAR  SCHOOLS 

Jefferson's  scheme  as  set  forth  in  the  bill  we  are  discussing 
created  grammar  schools  in  which  there  were  to  be  taught  the  Latin 
and  Greek  languages,  English  grammar,  geography,  and  the  higher 
part  of  numerical  arithmetic,  that  is,  vulgar  and  decimal  fractions 
and  the  extraction  of  the  square  and  cube  roots. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  the  equipment  that  was  to  be  provided 
for  these  schools.  The  buildings  were  to  be  of  brick  or  stone; 
offices  were  to  be  placed  on  the  school  grounds.  The  grammar 
school  was  to  contain  a  room  for  the  schools,  a  dining-hall,  four 
rooms  for  a  master  and  usher,  and  ten  or  twelve  lodging-rooms  for 
the  scholars.  I  use  "scholars"  because  that  is  the  word  used  in 
the  bill. 

Among  the  scholars  that  were  to  be  admitted  to  the  grammar 
schools  were  those  who  had  attended  at  least  two  years  at  some  one 
of  the  schools  in  the  hundred  and  whose  parents  were  too  poor  to 
educate  them  further.  They  were  to  be  of  the  best  and  most 
promising  genius  and  disposition  and  they  were  to  be  appointed  by 
the  overseer  of  the  hundred  after  the  most  diligent  and  impartial 
examination  and  without  favor. 

LOCATION  OF  SCHOOLS 

There  were  no  public  health  boards  in  Jefferson's  day  to  de- 
termine the  location  of  schoolhouses.  I  am  glad  to  say,  however, 
that  there  would  have  been  had  my  good  friend,  Dr.  Hurty,  then 
been  born.1 

This  did  not  prevent  Jefferson,  however,  from  considering  the 
impediment  poor  health  is  to  the  acquisition  of  an  education.  Con- 

:Dr.  Hurty  is  Secretary  of  the  State  Board  of  Health  of  Indiana   and  is  so  earnest  in  his  work 
that  his  enthusiasm  excites  praise. 


186  Indiana  University 

sequently  when  he  came  to  provide  by  law  for  the  establishment  of 
grammar  schools  he  was  careful  to  make  it  the  duty  of  the  overseers 
in  locating  the  schoolhouse  to  place  it  "as  central  as  may  be  to  the 
inhabitants"  of  the  county;  to  provide  that  it  have  good  water,  that 
it  be  near  a  supply  of  provision  and  fuel,  and  that  the  location  "be 
healthy"  (healthful). 

UNIVERSITY  OF  VIRGINIA 

In  addition  to  his  plan  for  primary  and  grammar  schools,  Jeffer- 
son favored  the  establishment  of  a  university  for  his  state.  He 
wanted  an  institution  of  this  character  in  which  all  the  branches 
of  science  then  deemed  useful  should  be  taught  in  their  highest 
degree.  With  great  particularity  he  classified  the  sciences  that 
should  be  taught.  He  maintained  that  the  professors  to  hold  chairs 
in  his  proposed  university  must  be  men  about  the  finish  of  whose 
education  and  qualifications  there  could  be  no  question.  He  set 
his  standard  high,  when  he  first  launched  his  movement  for  an 
educational  system  and  he  never  lowered  it.  He  believed  that  at 
the  outset  teachers  from  overseas  would  have  to  be  secuied,  and 
they  were  to  give  to  this  institution,  when  established,  the  splendor 
and  pre-eminence  desired  for  it. 

Here  it  is  proper  to  add  that,  by  a  system  of  selection,  pupils  of 
"the  best  and  most  promising  genius"  in  the  hundred  schools  were 
to  receive  free  instruction  in  the  academies;  and,  by  continued 
selection,  the  most  promising  were  to  get  "free"  instruction  in  the 
university. 

A  LONG  STRUGGLE 

Jefferson's  plans  were  not  carried  out  until  1818,  nearly  forty 
years  after  he  inaugurated  his  fight  for  an  educational  system 
designed  for  the  enlightment  of  all  the  people.  His  common  school 
feature  was  not  adopted  fully,  an  appropriation  by  the  state  for 
these  schools  being  substituted  for  their  support  by  local  taxation, 
as  urged  by  Jefferson.  But  the  action  obtained  in  1818  was  directly 
under  Jefferson's  influence,  the  active  agent  in  the  legislation  being 
Joseph  Carrington  Cabell. 

Cabell  was  himself  an  educated  man,  having  studied  several 
years  in  German  schools.  He  became  interested  in  Jefferson's 
educational  theories  and  successfully  brought  about  his  own 
election  to  the  Virginia  Senate,  in  which  he  served  for  twenty  years. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  187 

During  all  this  time  his  central  thought  and  greatest  efforts  were 
given  to  embodying  in  the  form  of  law  tin-  Ji-iu •r.snni.m  theory  of 
education,  whirh  embraced  popular  education  and  free  schools  by 
local  taxation  and  a  university  to  be  supported  by  the  state.  CaU-ll 
was  truly  a  patient  and  faithful  patriot.  Had  it  n..t  been  for  him, 
the  University  of  Virginia  would  not  have  been  created,  in  my  judg- 
ment, when  it  was,  if  ever. 

The  univeisity  was  founded  under  the  law  of  1818  on  Jefferson's 
plans,  not  only  as  to  its  methods  of  instruction,  but  also  as  to  its 
system  of  government  and  the  arrangement  and  construction  of 
its  buildings,  for  many  of  which  he  made  with  his  own  hands  the 
architectural  drawings.  Some  of  its  original  features  that  have 
since  had  quite  general  adoption  are  the  following: 

1.  The  elective  system  of  studies  under  which  the  student 
follows  the  lines  he  specially  desires,  instead  of  a  fixed  course  out- 
lined in  a  curriculum.     Jefferson  never  could  understand  why  a 
boy  with  an  aptitude  and  liking  for  mathematics,  but  none  for  Latin 
and  Greek,  should  be  denied  the  right  to  become  a  first-rate  civil 
engineer  because  he  couldn't  master  the  roots  of  a  tongue  foreign 
to  his  own. 

2.  Student  self-government,  or  putting  the  student  "on  honor" 
as  to  his  conduct,  with  the  student  body  as  the  tribunal  for  passing 
on  individual  infractions  of  discipline. 

3.  Nonsectarian  religious  instruction. 

4.  Manual  training  and  vocational  instruction.     These  subjects 
are  attracting  wide  attention  today  and  in  giving  instruction  in 
them,  educational   institutions  are  touching  upon  almost  every 
practical  phase  of  life,  involving  manual  labor.     Jefferson  saw  the 
importance  of  this  sort  of  education  and  promptly  became  a  pioneer 
in  it.     In  providing  for  higher  education  by  his  university,  he  did 
not  lose  sight  of  the  importance  of  instruction  in  agriculture  and 
in  the  use  of  tools. 

PRACTICAL  TURN  OF  MIND 

Jefferson  was  not  a  light-headed  theorist.  He  usually  saw 
clearly,  before  he  started,  the  end  of  everything  he  undertook.  Note 
how  practical  he  was  in  what  he  desired  to  accomplish  by  his  plan 
for  primary  education.  He  stated  his  objects  thus: 

1.  "To  give  to  every  citizen  the  information  he  needs  for  the 
transaction  of  his  own  business; 

2.  "To  enable  him  to  calculate  for  himself  and  to  express  and 
preserve  his  ideas,  his  contracts,  and  accounts  in  writing; 


188  Indiana  University 

3.  "To  improve,  by  reading,  his  morals  and  faculties; 

4.  "To  understand  his  duties  to  his  neighbors  and  country, 
and  to  discharge  with  competence  the  functions  confided  to  him 
by  either. 

5.  "To  know  his  lights,  to  exercise  with  order  and  justice  those 
he  retains ;  to  choose  with  discretion  the  fiduciary  of  those  he  dele- 
gates; and  to  notice  their  conduct  with  diligence,  with  candor,  and 
judgment; 

6.  "And,  in  general,  to  observe  with  intelligence  and  faithful- 
ness all  the  social  relations  under  which  he  shall  be  placed." 

If  any  state  in  the  Union  has  a  system  of  primary  education 
that  is  more  beneficial  to  society  than  what  Jefferson  meant  his 
to  be,  I  plead  my  ignorance  of  its  existence.  Dr.  Carter  believed 
this  statement  "ought  to  be  written  in  letters  of  gold  and  hung  in 
every  primary  school  thruout  the  land  and  be  known  by  heart  to 
every  teacher  and  student". 

OBJECTS  OF  HIGHER  EDUCATION 

Turning  to  the  objects  Jefferson  hoped  to  accomplish  thru 
higher  education,  we  are  amazed  at  his  advanced  views.  Samuel 
B.  Adams,  widely  known  for  his  historical  research,  was  within  the 
truth  when  he  declared  that  "it  is  safe  to  say  that  the  relation  of 
universities  to  good  citizenship  and  to  the  practical  interests  of 
American  life  has  never  been  better  formulated  by  any  professional 
educator"  than  by  Jefferson.  He  adds  that  "American  colleges 
and  universities  will  need  to  advance  a  long  way  before  they  reach 
the  Jeffersonian  idea." 

The  objects  are  thus  classified: 

1.  "To  form  the  statesmen,  legislators,  and  judges,  on  whom 
public  property  and  individual  happiness  are  so  much  to  depend; 

2.  "To  expound  the  principles  and  structure  of  government, 
the  laws  which  regulate  the  intercourse  of  nations,  those  formed 
municipally  for  our  own  government,  and  a  sound  spirit  of  legis- 
lation,  which  banishing  all  unnecessary  restraint  on  individual 
action  shall  leave  us  free  to  do  whatever  does  not  violate  the  equal 
rights  of  another; 

3.  "To  harmonize  and  promote  the  interests  of  agriculture, 
manufactures,    and    commerce    and   by   well-informed   views   of 
political  economy  to  give  a  free  scope  to  the  public  industry; 

4.  "To  develop  the  reasoning  faculties  of  our  youth,  enlarge 
their  minds,  cultivate  their  morals,  and  instill  into  them  the  pre- 
cepts of  virtue  and  order ; 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  189 

5.  "To    enlighten    them    with    mathematical    and    physical 
sciences,  which  advance  the  arts,  and  administer  to  the  health,  the 
subsistence  and  comforts  of  human  life; 

6.  "And,  generally  to  form  them  to  habits  of  reflection  and 
correct  action,  rendering  them  examples  of  virtue  to  others,  and 
of  happiness  within  themselves." 

You  know  something  I  do  not,  if  you  know  of  an  institution 
of  learning  anywhere  that  is  today  in  its  work  going  beyond  what 
the  father  of  American  democracy,  a  century  ago,  conceived  should 
be  the  aim  of  a  university. 

JEFFERSON'S  HOBBY 

Jefferson's  educational  theory  was  a  hobby  with  him.  He 
never  became  so  engrossed  in  other  affairs  that  it  Ceased  to  be  the 
apple  of  his  eye.  He  had  no  doubt  of  its  being  the  only  sure  means 
of  the  people  becoming  the  guardians  of  their  own  liberty.  An 
educated  citizenship  he  believed  to  be  the  only  enduring  founda- 
tion a  democracy  could  have.  He  emphasized  this  thought  most 
forcefully  thus:  "If  a  nation  expects  to  be  ignorant  and  free,  in  a 
state  of  civilization,  it  expects  what  never  was  and  never  will  be." 

He  recognized  of  course  that  in  children  there  are  diffeiences  in 
ability  and  he  sought  to  make  it  possible  for  the  state  to  avail  itself, 
thru  his  plan  of  education,  of  those  talents  of  greatest  promise, 
whether  found  among  the  rich  or  the  poor. 

Nothing  Jefferson  ever  said  or  favored  shows  more  strikingly 
his  faith  in  the  people  for  self-government  and  the  necessity  for 
affording  them  educational  advantages,  thru  public  taxation,  than 
his  preference  for  a  common  school  education  over  a  university 
course,  in  the  event  but  one  of  these  could  be  had. 

To  his  friend  Cabell,  Jefferson  wrote  on  January  23,  1823: 

Were  it  necessary  to  give  up  either  the  primaries  or  the  University,  I  would 
rather  abandon  the  last,  because  it  is  safer  to  have  a  whole  people  respectably 
enlightened  than  a  few  in  a  high  state  of  science  and  the  many  in  ignorance.  This 
last  is  the  most  dangerous  state  in  which  a  nation  can  be.  The  nations  of  Europe 
are  so  many  proofs  of  it. 

REACTIONARY  SPIRIT 

Having  the  faith  he  did  in  the  people,  he  was  quick  to  see, 
following  the  Revolutionary  War,  any  attempts  to  weaken  their 
voice  in  their  government.  That  there  was  a  strong  reactionary 
spirit  after  the  war  in  favor  of  government  by  kings  instead  of  by 


190  Indiana  University 

the  people  is  an  established  historic  fact.  There  has  never  been  as 
much  said  about  the  dangerous  tendencies  of  this  brief  period  in 
the  life  of  our  nation  as  the  facts  warrant.  This  period  has  been 
referred  to  by  some  as  "A  Suppressed  Chapter  of  American  His- 
tory". In  it,  so  good  and  wise  a  man  as  John  Adams  said: 

All  projects  of  government,  formed  upon  the  supposition  of  continual  vigil- 
ance, sagacity,  virtue,  and  firmness  of  the  people,  when  possessed  of  the  exercise 
of  supreme  power,  are  cheats  and  delusion. 

Again  Adams  declared: 

The  proposition  that  the  people  are  the  best  keepers  of  their  own  liberties, 
is  not  true;  they  are  the  worst  conceivable;  they  are  no  keepers  at  all;  they  can 
neither  judge,  act,  think,  nor  will,  as  a  political  body. 

Sentiments  like  these  spurred  Jefferson  on  to  greater  efforts 
in  providing  means  wherewith  the  people  might  equip  themselves 
to  "act"  with  wisdom  "as  a  political  body". 

This  lack  of  confidence  in  the  people  and  indifference  to  their 
enlightment,  so  soon  after  they  had  thrown  off  the  kingly  yoke, 
doubtless  moved  Jefferson  to  make  the  declaration,  which  he  often 
repeated,  that 

A  system  of  general  instruction  which  shall  reach  every  description  of  our 
citizens,  from  the  richest  to  the  poorest,  as  it  was  the  earliest,  so  it  will  be  the  latest, 
of  all  the  public  concerns  in  which  I.  shall  permit  myself  to  take  an  interest. 

He  believed  that  it  was  impossible  for  a  people  to  continue  in  ignor- 
ance and  remain  free,  but  he  had  not  a  doubt  that  by  and  by  the 
master  in  the  schoolroom  would  displace  the  man  on  horseback. 

COMING  INTO  His  OWN 

Jefferson  was  denied  the  privilege  of  seeing  the  people  of  his 
own  state  adopt  fully  and  whole-heartedly  his  broad  and  generous 
notions  of  an  educational  system.  He  was  far  ahead  of  his  times 
and  too  democratic  in  his  ways  to  please  the  man  of  property  who 
would  be  called  upon  to  pay  in  part,  thru  taxation,  the  expense 
of  maintaining  a  system  of  popular  education  and  who  was  too 
shortsighted  to  see  the  advantages  society  would  derive  therefrom. 

But  if  his  own  state  made  the  mistake  of  not  promptly  falling 
in  with  his  ideas,  that  fact  did  not  prevent  the  great  West  beyond 
the  mountains  and  Michigan,  Minnesota,  Iowa,  Illinois,  and  Indi- 
ana, while  he  was  yet  living,  from  adopting  his  position  that  "no 
other  sure  foundation  than  education  can  be  devised  for  the  preser- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  191 

vation  of  freedom  and  happiness"  and  from  creating  a  system  of 
local  and  state  taxation  to  make  the  proposition  good. 

But  Jefferson  is  now  coming  into  his  own  in  his  native  state,  if 
I  may  so  express  myself.  Educational  reports  indicate  that  the 
common  schools  of  Virginia,  since  1870,  have  made  most  gratifying 
progress  and  that  it  has  been  made  thru  an  approach  to  the  Jef- 
fersonian  idea.  This  means  that  the  Virginia  educational 
system  and  methods  have  been  improved,  and  the  more  closely 
the  people  of  that  commonwealth  study  them  the  more  clearly 
they  understand  and  the  more  cheerfully  they  now  endorse  the 
educational  views  of  their  great  commoner. 

His  university  has  long  ago  become  famous  thru  its  achieve- 
ments. Hamilton  W.  Mabie  says: 

It  fulfilled  Jefferson's  noble  conception  of  the  place  of  a  university  in  a  demo- 
cratic society.  It  was  our  first  real  university.  It  was  literally  Jefferson's 
creation.  It  is  the  most  democratic  of  American  colleges  in  its  organization. 

Jefferson  was  of  the  opinion,  when  he  was  laboring  to  have  this 
institution  established,  that  in  ten  or  fifteen  years  it  would  supply 
Virginia  with  all  her  officers  and  that  they  would  be  highly  equipped 
for  their  public  duties. 

It  is  unquestionably  true  that  no  other  institution  has  furnished 
to  the  nation  as  many  senators  and  congressmen  fiom  its  alumni 
as  has  this  school.  Its  voice  in  national  affairs  has  long  been  a 
power.  Its  methods  of  teaching  are  followed  very  closely  in 
colleges  thru  the  South;  and  it  has  been  said  that  a  graduate  thereof 
is  "a  man  of  exact  knowledge  and  opposed  to  all  shams".  A 
theory  that  will  turn  out  that  sort  of  a  product  is  to  this  nation  a 
cloud  to  guide  it  on  its  way  by  day  and  a  pillar  of  fire  to  give  it 
light  by  night. 


THE  STATE  UNIVERSITY  AND  ITS  SER- 
VICE TO  BUSINESS 


Evans  Woollen  was  born  at  Indianapolis  on  November  28,  1864.  He  re- 
ceived the  bachelor's  degree  from  Yale  in  1886  and  the  master's  degree  two  years 
later.  He  is  president  of  the  Fletcher  Savings  and  Trust  Company,  of  Indian- 
apolis. During  the  World  War  he  served  as  a  member  of  the  State  Council  of 
Defense  and  as  federal  fuel  administrator  for  Indiana. 


(193) 


THE  STATE  UNIVERSITY  AND  ITS  SER- 
VICE TO  BUSINESS 

By  EVANS  WOOLLEN 

NOT  the  least  important  of  our  duties  is  the  duty  not  to  talk 
about  things  we  do  not  understand,  and  I  have  but  slight  under- 
standing of  education.  However,  I  may  claim  to  know  something 
about  business,  and  perhaps  this  occasion  may  be  regarded  as  an 
opportunity  similar  to  that  once  afforded  by  the  public  school 
authorities  in  Indianapolis. 

They  did  me  the  honor  of  inviting  me  as  a  man  of  business  to 
address  their  principals  in  answer  to  the  question:  How  can  the 
schools  best  fit  their  pupils  for  business?  And  that  gave  oppor- 
tunity to  express  the  conviction  that  the  best  thing  the  schools  could 
do  for  business  would  be  to  leave  off  the  effort  to  fit  their  pupils 
for  business;  the  conviction  that  if  only  the  schools  would  fit  their 
pupils  for  life  we  men  of  business  better  than  they  could  do  the  rest. 

Is  there  a  similar  answer  to  the  same  question  about  the  state 
university  which  is  a  part  of  the  public  school  system  and  as  such 
expected  in  a  measure  to  set  the  standards  and  to  be  in  adjustment 
with  and  take  over  the  products  of  the  rest  of  the  system? 

The  answer  by  the  business  man  of  today  cannot  be  in  a  spirit 
of  criticism.  Rather  it  must  be  in  a  spirit  of  appreciation  of  the 
endeavor  by  this  institution  and  others  to  give  business  what  it 
needs.  A  difficulty  in  the  way  of  the  endeavor  has  been  that  busi- 
ness, especially  the  kind  that  is  fond  of  asserting  "business  is  busi- 
ness", has  not  always  known  just  what  it  did  need.  It  has  not 
always  known  that  it  needed  whole  men  and  it  has  demanded  of  the 
state  university  that  which  it  called  practical  education.  And  what 
shall  we  now  say  that  business  does  most  need  in  the  youth  it  takes 
from  the  state  university?  My  answer  with  reference  to  the 
university  as  to  the  schools  is  that  business,  that  great  field  of 
infinitely  varied  activity,  needs  several  things  more  than  it  needs 
vocational  training.  First,  of  course,  it  needs  character.  And 
then,  equally  of  couise,  it  needs  the  capacity  to  think  with  con- 
centration and  precision.  Health  may  well  come  next,  health 
that  brings  to  the  service  of  business  vigor  and  vitality.  If  to 
these  is  added  the  habit  of  work  then  nothing  else  much  matters. 

(195) 


196  Indiana  University 

In  saying  that  business  needs  character  in  the  youth  it  takes 
over  I  do  not  think  so  much  of  the  more  simple  and  obvious  things 
having  to  do  with  right  and  wrong,  for  they  go  without  the  saying, 
at  least  without  emphasis.  Rather  and  beyond  I  think  especially 
of  generous-mindedness  that  comes  with  the  habit  of  accommoda- 
tion, the  habit  of  trying  tolerantly,  sympathetically  to  understand 
1  he  other  man's  point  of  view  and  to  be  respectful  of  his  personality. 
Character  in  this  sense  business  needs  that  it  may  get  on  in  the 
solution  of  its  problems  having  to  do  with  human  relations.  These 
are  the  problems  that  trouble  business  today  and  are  greatly  more 
important  than  problems  having  to  do  with  things. 

Now  this  generous-mindedness  is  the  result,  is  it  not,  of  the 
process  we  speak  of  rather  vaguely  as  liberating  the  spirit.  We 
mean,  I  take  it,  liberation  of  the  spirit  from  the  little  view,  emanci- 
pation from  prejudice  against  the  other  man  and  his  cause.  The 
clash  in  the  world  today  is  the  clash  of  unliberated  spirits,  and  busi- 
ness is  suffering  in  that  clash. 

Here  is  an  illustration.  The  general  manager  of  a  great  in- 
dustrial concern  recently  expressed  an  opinion  that  has  support 
among  those  whose  whole  philosophy  of  life  is  in  the  phrase  "law 
and  order".  The  opinion  was  that  for  Socialism  as  for  Bolshevism 
there  is,  to  quote  his  words,  "but  one  antidote,  namely,  governmental 
initiative  to  protect  life  and  property".  Now  that  business  man, 
vocationally  trained  but  uneducated,  honest  but  unacquainted  with 
the  truth,  informed  but  unliberated,  knows  all  about  motor  cars  but 
little  about  human  relations.  He  understands  well  the  sacredness  of 
property  but  perhaps  not  as  well  the  sacredness  of  life  that  produces 
property.  The  implication  of  his  words  is  that  force  is  the  answer 
to  any  questioning  of  our  capitalistic  organization  of  society.  Well, 
if  we  had  no  other  answer  we  should  be  in  a  bad  way.  Government 
can  put  out  the  socialist  but  it  cannot  put  down  Socialism.  That  is 
the  task  of  people  who  think  clearly  and  accept  the  Golden  Rule. 
Indeed,  the  answers  to  all  the  restless  questionings  will  come  not  so 
much  from  those  who  know  nothing  beyond  "law  and  order"  as  from 
the  generous-minded.  The  problems  that  trouble  business  in  these 
clashing  times  and  frighten  the  general  manager  whose  business 
suffers  in  the  clash  will  be  solved  by  those  of  liberated  spirit  and 
they  are  those  whom  business  most  needs  from  the  state  university. 

How  the  state  university  can  best  accomplish  the  process  of 
liberation  is  not  for  the  business  man,  but  of  this  I  am  sure — it  is 
not  accomplished  when  the  vocational  motive  is  dominant,  when 
information  is  the  aim  and  not  wisdom,  when  things  of  the  imagina- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  197 

tion  are  omitted,  when  acquaintance  with  the  noble  of  history  and 
fiction  is  foregone.  In  a  word,  it  is  not  accomplished  by  a  cur- 
riculum detei  mined  with  reference  to  pocket-filling  practicality,  with 
reference  to  the  "successful  career"  of  a  certain  type  whereof  we 
have  had  more  than  enough.  Moreover,  the  process  of  liberation 
does  not  require  the  curriculum  extended  "over  the  whole  field  of 
knowledge"  to  which  President  Pritchett  recently  referred  as  hav- 
ing enormously  diluted  college  salaries.  And  in  this  connection  it  is 
interesting  to  note  President  Thwing's  statement  that  curriculum 
extension  in  the  last  seventy-five  years  has  been  greater  than  during 
all  the  centuries  theretofore  since  Oxford  and  Cambridge  began  to 
receive  students.  The  process  we  are  considering  does  require  that 
"discipline  of  the  spirit"  which  Lord  Haldane  defines  in  his  Yale 
Review  article  as  coming  "from  the  sustained  effort  to  understand 
and  assimilate  the  teaching  of  the  great  masters  in  literature,  science, 
art,  and  religion.  .  .  ."  He  includes  science  as  he  must,  it  being 
an  important  part  of  "the  life  history  of  the  human  spirit  and  its 
wonderful  adventures",  and  in  a  curriculum  fit  to  accomplish  the 
liberation  of  the  spirit  there  is  a  place  for  science  as  well  as  for  the 
so-called  humanities,  but  for  pure  science,  for  science  taught  not  in 
application  only  but  philosophically,  so  taught  that  the  things  learned 
are,  quoting  from  the  same  article,  "not  ends  in  themselves  but  the 
milestones  which  mark  progress  toward  liberation". 

And  then,  next  to  character,  business  needs  in  the  youth  it  takes 
over  from  the  state  university  the  capacity  to  think  with  concen- 
tration and  precision,  capacity  for  the  clear  thinking  that  is  helped 
and  proved  by  clear  expression.  It  needs  clear-thinking  youth  for 
the  long  pull  more  than  it  needs  vocationally  trained  youth  with 
their  temporary  advantage.  There  is  no  great  difficulty  for  the 
manager  in  training  to  the  established  ways  of  the  business  the  boys 
who  have  had  to  quit  school.  The  difficulty  is  in  getting  the  youth 
who  can  think  out  new  ways  for  the  business,  whose  minds  go 
hither  and  yon  with  precision;  who,  as  the  saying  is,  can  get  their 
worlds  "charted  and  mapped".  They  are  the  youth  business  wants 
from  the  state  university.  It  cannot  get  them  from  the  correspond- 
ence school  or  the  business  college.  It  wants  the  university  to  train 
its  youth  not  so  much  to  do  "a  certain  set  of  things"  as  to  infuse 
"the  way  of  doing  all  things  with  a  certain  ideal"  of  clear-thinking 
precision.  Business,  in  a  word,  needs  not  so  much  a  smattering  of 
facts  as  the  power  to  coordinate  facts ;  needs  not  so  much  the  stuffed 
man  as  the  adaptable;  needs  not  so  much  him  who  knows  as  him 
who  thinks  for  "the  thinker",  as  it  has  been  said,  "takes  the  old 


198  Indiana  University 

truth  and  applies  it  to  the  new  conditions  of  the  present  and  of  the 
future". 

Here  again  it  is  not  for  the  business  man  to  say  that  this  method 
or  that  is  the  best  for  use  by  the  university  in  the  development  of 
the  capacity  for  clear  thinking.  It  is  not  for  him  to  appraise  the 
Harvard  method  of  a  general  examination  or  any  other.  Par- 
ticularly it  is  not  for  him  to  adventure  into  any  defense  of  the 
classics  when  Professor  Shorey  is  on  the  program,  but  he  cannot  for- 
bear quoting  this  from  Gordon  Hall  Gerould: 

The  case  for  the  classics  and  for  the  older  studies  in  general  is  simply  that 
they  give  a  boy,  if  he  is  properly  instructed  and  is  not  hampered  by  congenital 
ineptitude,  a  better  chance  to  gain  insight  and  balance  of  mind  than  do  most  of 
the  newer  subjects,  He  is  less  likely  to  be  near-sighted — astigmatic — in  dealing 
with  men  and  things,  because  of  his  experience  with  minds  that  have  been  got 
into  perspective  by  the  focusing  of  generations  of  eyes. 

The  colleges  with  their  athletics  and  gymnasiums  and  otherwise 
have  doubtless  done  much  toward  the  physical  development  of  their 
students  and  so  toward  the  reduction  of  the  charge — far  greater 
than  the  uninformed  would  surmise — that  illness  puts  on  business. 
They  have  doubtless  done  much  by  way  of  instruction  in  hygienic 
methods  of  living,  much  toward  the  attainment  of  a  public  con- 
science in  the  matter  of  health,  toward  the  acceptance  of  illness 
rather  as  a  reproach  than  as  a  misfortune.  For  these  things,  for 
the  healthy  minds  in  healthy  bodies  that  come  from  the  colleges, 
for  the  "ordered  lives"  that  come  from  academic  discipline,  for  the 
vigor  and  vitality  that  strengthen  and  renew  business,  for  all  these 
things  business  has  reason  to  be  grateful. 

And  doubtless  the  state  universities  are  discharging,  within 
their  walls  and  without,  their  peculiar  responsibilities  for  the  con- 
servation of  the  health,  the  most  important  asset  of  the  states  by 
which  they  are  maintained. 

But  beyond  these  things  I  have  in  mind  the  query  whether 
something  more  might  be  done.  The  query  proceeds  from  a  con- 
viction that  the  world's  workers  are  lamentably  wasteful  of  their 
potentialities;  that  half  of  them,  a  third,  were  all  the  powers  of 
perfect  health  evoked,  could  do  the  world's  work  that  is  being  done 
today.  The  query  is  whether  the  state  university  might  do  some- 
thing more  toward  an  understanding  of  and  respect  for  man's 
unbelievable  resources  in  body  and  mind  and  spirit ;  something  more 
toward  bringing  to  service  the  "unplumbed  reservoirs"  of  strength 
about  which  Professor  James  has  written. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  199 

The  habit  of  work,  it  is  interesting  to  note,  is  the  thing  Charles 
M.  Schwab,  in  giving  his  ideas  on  college  education  for  business 
men,  is  most  concerned  about.  He  hates  a  loafer.  On  the  other 
hand,  I  have  been  told  that  President  Jordan  used  to  say  of  the 
university  and  its  students  that  "It  is  better  to  have  come  and  loafed 
than  never  to  have  come  at  all."  Perhaps  so,  but  I  am  not  sure.  I 
am  not  sure  that  the  loafer  gets  anything  that  will  compensate  him 
for  having  acquired  or  confirmed  the  habit  of  loafing.  At  any  rate, 
whether  it  is  better  for  him  it  is  worse  for  the  university  and,  what- 
ever the  fact  as  to  a  privately  endowed  institution,  one  maintained 
with  democracy's  funds  cannot  be  hospitable  to  the  loafer.  It  can 
accept,  should  accept,  the  English  requirement  that  the  education  it 
offers  be  "fit  for  a  gentleman"  but,  as  President  Tucker  says,  "we 
have  added  the  implication — a  gentleman  at  work".  And  surely 
this  is  important/that  the  state  university  in  its  service  to  business 
constrain  its  youth  to  acquire  the  habit,  as  another  has  expressed  it, 
of  "hitting  the  line  hard  in  undergraduate  years"  because  the  habit 
"carries  on"  as  in  quite  other  fashion  the  habit  of  "hitting  it  sof^' 
"cairies  on".  The  undergraduate  days  are  not  "dissociated  from 
what  follows"  and  it  is  a  pity  if  they  are  regarded  as  "an  interlude 
in  the  serious  life",  that  being  the  conception  off  them  revealed,  we 
are  told,  in  a  questionnaire  at  Harvard.  No,  college  is  the  tirr^ 
when  our  youth  should  be  acquiring  the  habit  of  work,  of  hard 
work  which  the  world  so  much  needs  today,  the  habit  of  devotion  to 
what  Carlyle,  as  quoted  by  President  Eliot,  says  "a  man  is  born  to 
in  all  epochs — to  expend  every  particle  of  strength  that  God 
Almighty  has  given  him  in  doing  the  work  h  *3  fit  for;  to  stand  up 
to  it  to  the  last  breath  of  life  and  to  do  his  best".  And  so  I  have 
said  that  a  state  university  wherein  youth  are  acquiring  this  habit 
must  not  be  hospitable  to,  must  not  be  encumbered  by,  the  loafer 
who  excludes  himself  from  a  precious  privilege. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  problem  of  the  near-loafer  is,  I  know, 
difficult  as  is  that  of  the  inept.  Notwithstanding  their  ill  effect  on 
the  cultural  life  of  the  state  university,  they  cannot  be  excluded  and 
only  the  intellectually  e*lite  retained  in  an  institution  which  must 
"foster  the  sense  of  solidarity"  and  "develop  the  instincts  of  co- 
operation" that  democracy  relies  on.  It  is,  I  say,  a  difficult  problem, 
how  in  the  presence  of  ever-increasing  numbers  to  avoid  the  over- 
coming of  the  exceptional  in  the  mass  of  mediocrity,  how  to  make 
"the  democratic  process  yield  aristocratic  lesults".  But  democracy 
needs  the  exceptional  man  and  the  problem  must  engage  attention, 
especially  if  it  be  true,  as  Professor  Cumings  has  concluded,  that 


200  Indiana  University 

there  has  been  a  distinct  deterioration  in  the  quality  of  the  intel- 
lectual life  of  American  universities  in  the  last  thirty  years.  A 
contribution  to  the  solution  of  the  problem  may  be  found  in  the 
honors  system  recently  adopted  at  Columbia.  Another  may  be 
found  in  the  suggestion  made  here,  namely: 

A  stiff  back-bone  of  courses  of  exceptional  difficulty  correlated  into  an  honor 
school  in  which  any  student  may  enroll  but  in  which  only  the  student  of  marked 
ability  and  industry  may  hope  to  remain,  courses  broadly  planned  to  arouse 
intellectual  curiosity,  to  develop  the  love  of  truth  for  truth's  sake,  free  from  the 
taint  of  practicality  and  vocationalism,  courses  to  stimulate  imagination  and 
develop  the  philosophical  attitude,  such  courses  leading  to  a  distinctive  degree. 

Whether  such  a  university  of  quality  within  the  university  o 
numbers  is  practicable  I  of  course  cannot  judge.  But  of  this  I  am 
sure:  were  it  established,  I,  for  one,  speaking  not  at  all  as  idealist 
but  quite  hard-headedly  as  business  man  would  prefer  that  my  help- 
ers bear  its  degree  evidencing  the  humanities  and  the  pure  sciences 
taught  philosophically  to  the  end  not  of  qualification  but  of  quality. 

I  said  "hard-headedly"  because  I  am  not  here  concerned  with 
any  plea  against  materialism  but  with  the  needs  of  business.  And 
in  this  plea  that  business,  especially  the  business  that  must  not  falter 
in  this  troubled  day,  needs  from  the  state  university  youth  trained 
no n- vocationally  in  those  things  that  make  for  the  "energizing  of 
body,  mind,  and  soul" — in  this  plea  I  would  not  seem  indifferent  to 
vocational  training  that  is  a  supplement  and  not  a  substitute.  Par- 
ticularly I  would  not  seem  indifferent  to  or  ungrateful  for  the  uni- 
versity 's  noble  endeavor  thruout  a  state-wide  campus  to  extend 
its  privileges  to  those  who  have  had  to  stop  their  schooling  some- 
where along  the  way.  Perhaps  there  is  also  opportunity  for  service 
to  business  in  vocational  guidance  toward  the  end  of  the  under- 
graduate course.  It  would  seem  especially  in  this  time  of  bewilder- 
ing development  that  the  university  might  do  something  by  way  of 
aiding  its  students  to  get  acquainted  with  opportunities  and  by  way 
of  aiding  business  to  make  selections  from  its  students. 

We  have  been  considering  the  needs  of  business  in  meeting  the 
problems  of  an  increasingly  intricate,  farther-reaching,  world-wide 
intercourse  and  the  problems  of  an  under-producing,  over-consum- 
ing industrial  democracy.  May  I,  before  concluding,  put  in  paren- 
thesis the  query  whether  the  same  things  are  not  needed  by  the  polit- 
ical democracy  which  created  and  sustains  the  state  university?  The 
success  of  a  state  university  is  of  course  to  be  tested  by  reference 
to  its  effectiveness  in  helping  on  toward  the  realization  of  democra- 
cy's ideal.  That  ideal  is  not  so  much  that  each  shall  be  efficient 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  201 

in  the  class  to  which  he  is  born  as  that  each  shall  have  his  chance 
to  move  into  another  class  where  the  outlook  is  broader  and  the  joy 
of  the  spirit  is  greater.  Democracy's  method  for  the  realization  of 
this  ideal  is  that  for  the  sake  of  assuring  and  enlarging  that  chance 
it  will  forego  something  of  efficiency.  It  will  forego  if  need  be 
something  of  autocracy's  occupational  efficiency  and  something  of 
aristocracy's  governmental  efficiency.  Democracy  cannot,  however, 
forego  anything  of  that  education  whereof  "information  is  the  least 
part",  the  education  that  liberates.  Especially  in  these  challenging 
days  of  labor's  enlarging  influence,  both  political  and  industrial,  and 
of  woman's  advancement  in  suffrage,  democracy  cannot  prudently 
forego  anything  of  the  culture,  mental  and  spiritual,  that  is  the  one 
alembic. 

And  so  to  the  question,  How  can  the  state  university  best  fit 
its  pupils  for  business?  we  have  found  no  new  thing  to  bring  in 
answer,  have  found  no  suggestion  except  that  any  enlargement  of 
the  vocational  be  challenged ;  that  business  has  plenty  of  those  who 
have  gone  to  what  have  been  called  "bargain  sales"  in  education; 
that  fitness  for  the  business  of  life  is  after  all  what  everyone  should 
have  for  a  life  of  business ;  that  in  these  days  of  threatening  prob- 
lems in  human  relations  there  is  special  need  of  emphasis  on  the 
humanizing  arts,  special  need  of  the  fundamentals  in  the  presence 
of  "fads  and  follies",  of  short  cuts  and  quackeries. 

A  state  university  striving,  as  I  know  this  one  strives,  to  meet 
these  needs,  whatever  the  response  to  its  request  for  funds  for  the 
"plant",  must  not  be  denied  its  request  for  abundant  funds  where- 
with to  attract  and  retain  the  utmost  quality  in  teachers,  and  thereto 
every  clear-seeing  citizen,  convinced  that  public  instruction  is  indeed 
"the  most  important  item  in  the  budget  of  the  state",  will  pledge  his 
support  in  the  name  of  democracy  which  perishes  if  it  is  not  edu- 
cated. 

And  that  pledge  comes  with  all  earnestness  from  one  who, 
grateful  for  the  privilege  of  participation  in  this  occasion,  takes 
note  that  for  the  two  objects  of  his  pride  and  devotion,  his  Alma 
Mater  and  his  State  University,  the  same  motto  speaks  for  the 
liberation  of  the  spiiit:  Lux  et  Veritas. 


THE  STATE  UNIVERSITY  AT  THE 

OPENING  OF  THE  TWENTIETH 

CENTURY 


Edward  Asahel  Birge  was  born  at  Troy,  New  York,  on  September  7,  1851 . 
He  received  the  A.B.  degree  at  Williams  College  in  1873,  and  the  A.M.  in  1876; 
the  Ph.D.  at  Harvard,  in  1878;  the  honorary  Sc.D.  at  the  Western  University  of 
Pennsylvania  in  1897;  LL.D.,  Williams,  1903;  the  University  of  Wisconsin,  1915; 
the  University  of  Missouri,  1919.  In  1875  he  became  instructor  in  natural 
history  at  the  University  of  Wisconsin;  professor  of  zoology  in  1879,  which  posi- 
tion he  held  until  1911;  dean  of  the  College  of  Letters  and  Science,  1891-1918; 
acting  president,  1900-3;  president  since  December,  1918.  Among  organiza- 
tions in  which  he  has  held  offices  at  various  times  are  the  following:  Wisconsin 
Geology  and  Natural  History  Survey,  director,  1897-1919;  president  of  the  com- 
missioners of  the  survey  since  1919;  Wisconsin  Academy  of  Sciences,  Arts,  and 
Letters,  president,  1890-91,  1918-21;  American  Microscopical  Society,  president, 
1903 ;  American  Fisheries  Society,  president,  1907 ;  American  Society  of  Zoologists, 
president  of  the  Central  Branch,  1908-9;  Phi  Beta  Kappa,  senator  since  1904, 
vice-president  of  United  Chapters,  1913-19,  president  since  1919;  Wisconsin 
Commissioners  of  Fisheries,  secretary,  1895-1915;  Madison  Free  Library,  director, 
1890-1909;  president,  1893-1909;  member  of  the  Wisconsin  Board  of  Forestry 
Commissioners,  1905-15;  of  the  Wisconsin  Conservation  Commission,  1908-15. 
Dr.  Birge  is  a  fellow  in  the  American  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Science, 
a  member  of  the  Washington  Academy  of  Sciences,  of  the  American  Society 
of  Naturalists,  and  of  Sigma  Xi.  He  has  written  many  papers  on  zoology  and 
limnology. 


(203) 


THE  STATE  UNIVERSITY  AT  THE 

OPENING  OF  THE  TWENTIETH 

CENTURY 

By  EDWARD  ASAHEL  BIRGE 

I  HAVE  NOT  CHOSEN  this  title  without  a  purpose,  for  it  at  once 
states  my  subject  and  limits  it.  The  calendar  shows  us  that  one- 
fifth  of  the  twentieth  century  has  passed,  but  we  need  only  glance 
at  the  political  and  social  world  to  be  convinced  that  we  have 
barely  entered  upon  it.  In  this  respect  our  century  is  in  no  wise 
exceptional,  altho  it  might  not  be  easy  to  find  one  in  which  calendar 
and  fact  were  so  far  out  of  step  as  they  are  today ;  for  the  world  has 
devoted  the  earlier  years  of  recent  centuries  to  working  out  the 
problems  of  the  past,  and  it  has  entered  definitely  on  those  of  the 
present  only  after  some  delay. 

I  suppose  that  the  treaty  of  Paris  in  1815  may  be  said  to  date 
the  change  from  the  eighteenth  century  to  the  nineteenth,  in  the 
same  sense  that  the  armistice  of  1918  marks  the  close  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  In  both  cases  years  were  to  pass  after  the 
calendar  had  registered  the  advent  of  a  new  act  before  the  curtain 
was  rung  down  on  the  last  scene  of  the  old  one  and  the  stage  set  for 
the  new  play. 

In  the  same  way  we  may  date  the  eighteenth  century  as  a  new  one 
from  the  death  of  Queen  Anne  and  of  Louis  XIV.  Its  predecessor 
may  be  said  to  have  opened  more  promptly  with  the  accession  of  the 
Stuart  dynasty ;  while  the  sixteenth  century  is  almost  in  accord  with 
the  twentieth  for  it  may  take  its  opening  date  from  1517,  from  the 
nailing  of  Luther's  theses  to  the  door  of  the  church  at  Wittenberg  or 
from  the  election  of  the  Emperor  Charles  V  two  years  later. 

We  need  not  press  the  point  farther,  for  in  any  case  there  will  be 
no  dispute  as  to  the  present.  There  is  no  need  of  words  to  tell  us 
that  we  at  least  find  ourselves  in  the  day  of  change  from  the  old  to 
the  new,  and  whatever  may  be  said  of  the  world  at  large,  we  of  the 
state  universities  may  be  sure  that  the  armistice  of  1918  marks 
the  turning  of  a  new  page  in  our  history.  We  can  already  see 
that  the  preceding  half-century  or  more  was  the  period  of  the  de- 
velopment of  conscious  relations  between  the  state  university  and 
the  state.  The  coming  decades  are  to  witness  the  evolution  of 
universities  thus  related  to  their  respective  communities. 

(206) 


206  Indiana  University 

The  state  universities  from  the  first  saw  that  it  was  their  duty 
to  apply  learning  to  the  amelioration  of  life ;  but  the  Morrill  Act  of 
1862  first  made  possible  definite  and  active  connections  between  the 
public  life  of  the  state  and  the  intellectual  life  of  the  university. 
Nor  were  these  connections  at  once  strong.  For  the  economic  life 
of  communities  and  states  which  were  still  in  the  pioneer  stage  or 
just  passing  out  of  it  depended  rather  on  exploitation  than  on 
cultivation;  and  the  simple  social  problems  of  a  pioneer  popula- 
tion, sparse  and  largely  transient,  did  not  call  for  the  administrative 
aid  of  experts. 

But  as  the  balance  of  exploitable  natural  resources  decreased, 
as  population  became  denser,  as  administrative  and  social  problems 
increased  in  number  and  in  difficulty,  there  arose  a  growing  con- 
sciousness of  the  intimate  connection  between  the  life  of  the  state 
and  of  the  university.  This  was  not  confined  merely  to  those 
relations  of  practical  assistance,  which  my  words  indicate,  but 
it  extended  to  all  intellectual  relations.  The  state  university,  as 
years  have  passed,  has  become  not  so  much  a  state  institution, 
not  so  much  a  representative  of  the  state,  as  the  state  itself  or- 
ganized for  the  maintenance  and  development  of  the  intellectual 
life  of  the  people. 

In  the  university  the  modern  state  has  resumed  one,  and  that 
the  chief,  of  its  older  and  higher  functions.  It  recognizes  no  longer 
as  a  matter  of  theory  but  in  practical  form  the  truth  that  the  state 
as  well  as  the  individual  has  a  spiritual  life  which  must  find  full 
expression.  It  looks  to  the  university  for  whatever  aid  knowledge 
can  give  in  solving  the  scientific  problems  of  agriculture,  the  economic 
problems  of  industry,  and  the  social  problems  of  government.  But 
it  looks  for  more  than  this.  It  turns  toward  the  state  university  as 
pre-eminently  the  organization  in  which  the  life  and  aspirations  of 
its  people  express  themselves,  which  gives  opportunity  to  youth 
from  all  classes  of  its  people,  not  merely  aiding  those  who  need  help 
but  attracting  those  who  seek  expression  of  their  mental  powers. 

Thus  the  state  university,  standing  at  the  head  of  the  public 
schools,  has  come  to  express  the  higher  life  of  the  people  in  a  sense 
that  no  other  institution  expresses  it.  Out  of  that  relation,  felt 
equally  by  university  and  by  state,  there  has  developed  a  new 
consciousness  on  both  sides.  On  the  side  of  the  state  there  has 
arisen  a  sense  of  possession — a  feeling  of  pride  in  an  institution 
which  gives  visible  expression  to  that  which  is  best  in  the  state. 
On  the  side  of  the  university  there  has  developed  not  only  a  new 
and  higher  sense  of  duty  toward  the  state  but  also  on  its  part  a  new 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  207 

sense  of  pride  in  its  position  as  embodying  and  as  inspiring  the 
higher  life  of  a  great  people. 

This  conscious  relation  between  state  and  university  is  im- 
mensely stronger  today  than  ever  before.  Nation  and  state  have 
alike  emerged  from  the  war  with  a  keener  sense  of  their  personality. 
Nationality  has  become  a  vital  force  in  a  new  sense,  and  with  this 
change  the  personality  of  the  state  also  has  gained  a  similar  ex- 
pansion. It  is  with  a  new  sense  of  that  personality  that  the  citizen 
now  looks  toward  his  university — toward  the  institution  to  which  all 
the  ways  of  education  converge,  in  which  the  intellectual  strivings 
of  the  people  become  articulate,  in  which  their  aspirations  toward 
a  higher  life  may  be  clarified,  guidedg  and  brought  to  fulfilment. 
Nor  is  this  all.  Not  only  does  the  state  university  offer  to  its 
citizens  the  path  of  opportunity,  the  way  thru  which  they  may  enter 
a  larger  life  of  thought  and  of  freedom ;  it  is  also  the  source  from 
which  must  radiate  influences  that  touch  the  general  life  in  all  its 
parts,  from  which  the  citizens  and  their  organizations  of  all  kinds 
may  derive  constant  inspiration  and  counsel. 

Thus  the  people  turn  to  us  today  with  a  heightened  conscious- 
ness of  the  personality  of  the  state  as  embodied  in  the  university, 
with  a  new  sense  of  their  own  necessities,  and  with  a  quickened  con- 
fidence in  the  duty  and  the  capacity  of  the  university  to  meet  these 
needs;  and,  let  me  add,  with  a  new  readiness  to  criticize  and  con- 
demn failure  in  meeting  them. 

At  such  a  time  it  is  both  easy  and  difficult  to  speak  of  the 
future,  equally  easy  and  difficult  to  speak  of  the  present  in  the 
case  of  universities,  whose  present  is  but  a  bit  of  the  future.  Easy — 
because  in  a  time  of  confused  issues  "any  guess  goes"  for  the  day 
and  is  forgotten  tomorrow;  difficult  for  those  on  whom  rest  even  in 
small  part  the  responsibilities  of  that  tomorrow  and  whose  guess 
must  in  some  sense  forecast  action  if  not  policy.  Perhaps  I  should 
rather  use  the  word  impossible  than  difficult,  for  the  new  century's 
base  line  of  experience  which  we  would  prolong  into  the  future 
is  one  not  measured  by  years  but  rather  by  weeks. 

Yet  in  spite  of  these  severe  limitations  I  shall  venture  to  speak 
of  the  present  problems  of  the  state  university — I  shall  speak 
of  them  as  the  past  year  has  forced  them  upon  us — only  partly 
formulated,  quite  without  final  solution,  often  without  even  partial 
solution.  I  shall  consider  them  under  three  heads,  the  problem  of 
numbers,  the  problem  of  standards,  the  problem  of  progress. 

No  educational  fact  of  the  present  year  is  so  striking  as  the 
enormous  increase  in  the  registration  of  university  students.  Not 


208  Indiana  University 

at  one  or  two  exceptional  institutions,  but  everywhere  classrooms 
are  overcrowded,  laboratories  are  inadequate,  teachers  are  pitifully 
too  few,  even  living  facilities  are  grossly  overtaxed.  Is  this  situa- 
tion, arising  this  year  for  the  first  time,  merely  temporary?  Is  it 
the  result  of  the  release  of  youth  from  war  duties  and  will  next  fall 
see  the  tide  of  college  registration  begin  to  fall? 

There  is  but  one  answer  to  these  questions.  Perhaps  there 
will  be  no  great  additional  rise  next  fall  in  the  registration  of 
students.  But  do  not  all  of  us  know  that  the  unprecedented  num- 
bers of  1919  may  be  capped  by  another  unprecedented  increase  in 
1920?  Can  any  of  us  find  warrant  for  a  belief  that  the  number  of 
our  students  will  decline  next  fall?  Can  any  of  us  even  nurse  the 
expectation  that  our  numbers  will  not  continue  to  rise  during  the 
next  decade  in  much  the  same  way  as  in  the  past?  For  myself,  at 
least,  I  see  no  such  prospect  before  us.  The  attendance  of  regular 
college  students  at  the  University  of  Wisconsin  has  practically 
doubled  during  every  decade  of  the  past  half-century.  The  only 
chance  that  the  coming  decade  will  not  repeat  the  story  of  the  past 
lies  in  the  word  practically.  For  it  is  certain  that  some  part  of  this 
year's  attendance  is  abnormal,  and  we  may  perhaps  cherish  for  a 
time  the  belief  that  the  normal  attendance  for  1919  might  have 
been  only  90  per  cent  or  even  80  per  cent  above  that  of  1909,  instead 
of  100  per  cent  which  it  really  was,  and  which  every  preceding  decade 
has  shown.  Yet  these  possible  figures  give  but  weak  guidance  to  an 
administrator  who  feels  the  growing  pressure  of  youth  toward 
college — a  pressure  due  not  so  much  to  the  spontaneous  intellectual 
ambition  of  individuals  as  to  the  public  and  semi-public  necessities 
of  society,  of  manufactures,  and  of  trade. 

University  attendance  has  passed  into  a  new  era — is  on  a  new 
basis.  The  actual  registration  will  fluctuate  as  in  the  past — the 
resultant  of  numerous  social  and  economic  forces.  But  the  balance 
of  these  forces  is  and  must  be  toward  increase;  they  will  be  checked 
or  accelerated  from  year  to  year,  as  the  case  may  be,  but  as  seen 
for  any  series  of  years  they  must  move  forward  with  the  assured 
progress  of  all  natural  forces. 

I  need  not  press  today  on  that  most  acutely  painful  spot  in  the 
administrational  anatomy — the  increased  cost  of  operating  a  univer- 
sity. Our  cheerful  friends,  the  economists  and  their  statisticians, 
have  for  a  year  or  more  been  predicting  a  reduction  of  costs  in  the 
immediate  future,  and  no  doubt  if  they  keep  on  long  enough  their 
prophecies  will  meet  partial  fulfilment.  But  no  one  is  so  bold 
as  to  hazard  the  guess  that  prices  will  return  to  a  level  even  approx- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  209 

imating  that  of  1914  during  any  period  which  is  worth  considering* 
unless  the  human  lifetime  is  to  be  prolonged  to  the  age  of  Methuselah. 
Universities  therefore  cannot  escape  the  practical  certainty  that 
they  must  educate  students  in  numbers  which  only  five  years  ago 
would  have  been  thought  impossible  and  at  a  cost  per  capita  whose 
prediction  five  years  ago  would  have  raised  doubts  as  to  the  sanity 
of  the  prophet. 

Nor  does  this  reference  to  operating  costs  tell  the  whole  story. 
Both  buildings  and  equipment  are  wholly  inadequate  to  present 
demands,  to  say  nothing  of  those  which  the  immediate  future  will 
surely  bring.  I  question  whether  anyone  who  forecasts  the  capital 
needs  of  his  university  can  fail  to  see  that  the  cost  of  these  necessities 
alone  much  exceeds  the  total  expenditures  of  the  past. 

Here  are  major  problems  for  us  of  the  state  universities,  and 
problems  for  which  there  is  no  general  solution.  Like  most  of  our 
social  problems,  they  will  have  to  be  worked  out  as  we  go  along. 
Nor  can  any  financial  solution  which  might  be  proposed  today 
be  regarded  as  more  than  temporary.  For  no  one  can  suppose  that 
any  of  the  enormous  additions  to  capital  recently  secured  by  our 
endowed  universities  will  yield  an  income  that  will  long  suffice  for 
their  needs.  Nor  will  any  increase  of  income  which  legislatures  may 
give  to  state  universities  be  long  adequate  to  the  situation.  In  1911 
the  University  of  Wisconsin  received  from  the  state  an  increase  of 
the  mill  tax  from  two-sevenths  to  three-eighths  of  a  mill.  This  sum 
has  for  nine  years  constituted  the  annual  contribution  of  the  state  to 
the  educational  expenses  of  the  university  as  an  institution  of 
research  and  of  teaching  at  Madison.  No  one  can  today  look  into 
the  future  with  the  expectation  or  even  the  hope  that  this  source  of 
income  can  now  be  fixed  at  any  rate  which  will  continue  to  support 
the  university  during  a  correspondingly  long  period. 

Under  such  conditions  there  is  little  use  in  discussing  financial 
problems.  We  must  meet  them  as  they  arise  and  as  best  we  can. 
And  it  is  well  that  they  must  be  so  met;  for  seen  in  the  mass  they 
are  staggering  in  their  proportions;  they  seem  impossible  of  solution. 
Fortunately  they  will  not  have  to  be  solved  in  the  mass.  They  will 
come  perhaps  not  singly,  but  at  any  rate  in  such  number  and  force 
that  they  will  be  disposed  of  somehow.  But  all  the  same  no  member 
of  a  state  university,  harassed  by  a  quick  succession  of  insistent 
problems,  is  likely  to  escape  many  practical  sermons  on  the  text 
"Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof." 

The  difficulties  of  the  universities  due  to  greater  numbers  and 
increased  costs  are  not  so  completely  the  product  of  the  war  as 


210  Indiana  University 

their  sudden  appearance  might  seem  to  imply.  The  problem  of 
rising  costs  is  no  new  one,  tho  greatly  enhanced  by  the  war,  and  the 
problem  of  numbers  is  the  outcome  of  the  slow  establishment  of  the 
conscious  relation  between  state  and  university.  But,  after  all, 
their  rise  to  a  position  of  major  problems  has  been  dramatically 
sudden,  and  both  university  and  state  must  seriously  consider 
their  relation  to  each  other  as  affected  by  this  new  importance. 

The  people  of  the  state  regard  the  university  as  an  institution 
of  higher  learning,  of  research,  of  all  that  historically  goes  with 
the  name  university.  They  see  also  in  the  university  the  path  of 
opportunity  for  the  youth  of  the  state,  along  which  both  they  and 
the  state  as  a  whole  may  move  toward  life  on  a  higher  level.  Both  of 
these  purposes  are  fully  included  within  the  duties  of  a  state  univer- 
sity; only  as  it  meets  them  both  does  it  justify  its  name. 

But  as  the  state  moves  forward,  as  it  leaves  the  simple  condi- 
tions of  its  youth,  it  leaves  also  many  of  those  easy  conditions  of 
life  which  go  with  a  sparse  population  and  large  exploitable  resources. 
The  overcrowded  university  is  witness  to  this  fact.  Modern  neces- 
sities demand  that  native  wit  be  supplemented  with  far  more  serious 
training  than  any  earlier  generation  needed.  Competition  is  select- 
ing for  success  the  youth  who  are  willing  to  undertake  and  carry 
thru  the  labor  of  long  preparation.  It  is  this  demand  of  necessity, 
this  pressure  of  competition,  which  today  urges  students  to  college 
by  the  thousand,  when  intellectual  ambition  drew  their  fathers 
thither  by  the  hundred  or  the  score. 

The  public  must  face  the  fact  that  the  same  forces  which  now 
refuse  success  on  the  easier  terms  of  the  past,  which  are  urging 
youth  into  college  as  a  condition  of  success,  will  continue  their 
work  of  selection ;  and  the  importance  of  this  truth  is  emphasized 
today  by  our  overcrowded  halls  and  by  our  larger  costs. 

For  the  privilege  of  university  education,  endowed  and  supported 
by  the  state,  has  been  too  lightly  regarded  by  quite  too  many  of  its 
citizens.  Too  many  have  been  lacking  in  appreciation  of  the  value 
and  greatness  of  the  opportunities  which  the  state  is  offering. 
Still  more  often  has  there  been  wanting  a  sense  of  the  duty  of  the 
student  to  prepare  himself  adequately  to  profit  by  the  privileges 
offered  by  the  state. 

The  ways  into  the  university  must  be  broad  and  direct,  and  the 
terms  of  admission  must  be  administered  not  in  a  narrow  or  ex- 
clusive spirit  but  in  that  of  friendly  help.  But  the  question  is  a  fair 
one — and  the  state  must  meet  it  rather  than  the  university :  Ought 
the  state  to  provide  an  education  so  expensive  as  university  training 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  211 

is  now  and  will  be  in  the  future  for  students  who  have  not  had  the 
definite  purpose  and  plan  to  make  the  best  use  of  opportunities  so 
great  and  so  costly? 

Let  me  illustrate  something  of  that  matter-of-course  attitude 
of  many  students,  this  half  indifferent  assumption  by  them  and  their 
parents  that  a  university  education  is  a  thing  which  needs  no  direct 
and  specific  cooperation  on  their  part.  I  desired  some  months  ago 
to  know  as  soon  and  as  accurately  as  might  be  the  possible  number 
of  students  who  next  September  are  to  come  from  the  high  schools  of 
Wisconsin  to  our  university.  I  was  told  by  those  who  know  the 
schools  that  there  was  no  use  in  attempting  such  an  inquiry  so  early 
as  March;  for  at  that  date,  they  said,  a  very  large  share  of  the  students 
would  not  have  decided  on  their  plans  for  the  autumn.  Certain 
groups  of  students  indeed  would  have  made  their  plans  and  would 
be  far  advanced  in  the  process  of  preparing  to  carry  them  out. 
Students  who  are  looking  forward  to  an  engineering  education  would 
have  been  definitely  working  toward  this  end  for  at  least  a  year, 
more  probably  for  two  or  three  years.  Great  numbers  of  students 
who  expect  to  enter  other  courses  would  be  in  the  same  condition. 
But  there  would  remain  also  great  numbers  of  students  who  are 
still  without  definite  plans,  who  go  on  to  the  end  of  the  high  school 
course  without  forecasting  the  future,  still  less  working  for  it  and  so 
adjusting  their  studies  as  to  make  the  coming  years  as  profitable 
as  possible.  Out  of  this  number  come  that  not  negligible  group  of 
freshmen  who  enter  college  without  definite  aim  and  who  for  the 
most  part  remain  there  but  a  short  time.  Out  of  this  group  come 
also  some  who,  after  dawdling  thru  high  school,  receive  the  stimulus 
of  a  serious  education  after  they  enter  the  university ;  and  this  fact 
we  are  glad  to  recognize.  If  the  cost  of  higher  education  to  the  state 
were  a  negligible  quantity,  this  opportunity  might  well  be  freely 
continued.  But  when  the  university  becomes  a  chief  item  in  the 
state's  budget — when  the  cost  of  teaching  the  individual  student  is 
rising  so  rapidly  and  to  such  a  level,  is  it  not  fair  that  the  state  should 
demand  a  serious  purpose  of  those  who  would  enjoy  the  privilege 
thus  afforded,  a  purpose  evinced  by  serious  work  during  the  high 
school  course,  definitely  directed  so  as  to  make  the  student  ready  for 
university  study? 

I  am  not  raising  at  all  the  old  questions  of  preparatory  courses 
and  of  studies  which  best  fit  for  the  university.  I  have  always  been 
most  ready  to  recognize  the  high  schools  as  the  "people's  colleges" 
and  to  take  into  the  university  students  with  the  most  varied  kind  of 
preparatory  study.  But  experience  has  shown  all  of  us  that  the 


212  Indiana  University 

student  ordinarily  continues  to  do  in  the  university  work  of  much  the 
same  grade  as  that  which  he  has  done  in  high  school.  In  the  great 
majority  of  cases  those  whose  high  school  grades  are  low  find  them- 
selves— or  in  a  much  smaller  number  of  cases  are  found — to  be  un- 
fitted for  university  study  and  retire  from  it  or  are  retired  as  the 
case  may  be.  This  process  is  a  wasteful  one,  both  of  time  and  of 
money.  It  is  even  more  wasteful  of  the  time  and  money  of  those 
who  are  prepared  to  profit  by  university  work  but  are  held  back  in 
their  progress  by  their  limping  comrades.  So  long  as  numbers 
were  small  and  universities  were  simply  organized  institutions,  the 
waste  could  be  permitted.  It  could  even  be  encouraged  on  the 
theory  that  those  few  students  in  this  group  who  made  good  in  the 
end  were  a  sufficient  recompense  for  the  labor  of  the  teacher  and 
the  cost  to  the  state. 

Does  this  situation  still  continue?  We  face  the  problems  not 
only  of  great  sums  for  operation  but  of  millions  of  dollars  for  build- 
ings and  equipment.  Is  it  not  our  duty  to  put  squarely  before  the 
state  the  question — Ought  not  the  privileges  of  the  university  to  be 
limited  to  those  whose  records  of  earnestness  and  of  success  in  high 
school  study  show  that  they  are  prepared  to  profit  by  them — who 
give  fair  hope  of  making  a  return  to  the  state  for  the  great  sums 
which  the  taxpayers  are  contributing  to  them? 

Whatever  the  answer  to  this  question,  we  still  face  the  problem 
of  giving  an  expensive  higher  education  to  thousands  of  students 
in  every  state  here  in  the  Central  West.  We  of  the  universities  stand 
ready  to  teach  all  youth  whom  the  state  may  send  to  us,  on  the 
present  terms,  if  the  state  will  provide  buildings,  equipment,  and 
teachers.  We  freely  recognize  the  advantages  of  the  policies 
of  the  past.  But  we  are  sure  that  the  state  is  now  confronted  with 
a  new  situation  in  the  rapid  growth  of  our  numbers  and  the  equally 
rapid  rise  of  our  costs.  Under  such  conditions,  must  not  the  sorting 
process  which  education  is  always  making  be  applied  more  vigorous- 
ly before  the  student  comes  to  college  instead  of  being  delayed  until 
after  he  enters  the  university?  I  would  not  be  misunderstood  as  to 
the  possible  effect  of  such  a  change  of  policy.  It  would  not  diminish 
the  number  of  our  students.  It  might  check  the  rate  of  increase 
and  allow  us  to  consider  other  problems  than  those  of  elementary 
courses,  and  even  in  some  measure  to  meet  them.  It  would  also 
— and  this  is  far  more  important — allow  a  grade  and  amount  of 
work  in  the  first  year  of  college  that  would  add  greatly  to  the  in- 
tellectual return  which  the  state  receives  from  its  investment  in 
the  university. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume 

The  problem  of  standards  is  like  the  problem  of  numbers,  an 
outgrowth  of  the  discovery  of  college  by  the  public  a  generation 
ago — and  a  problem  whose  insistence  has  been  greatly  emphasized 
by  the  experiences  of  the  country  in  the  war.  It  is  also  a  problem 
which  is  set  differently  for  the  state  universities  and  for  the  endowed 
institutions,  and  in  this  respect  also  it  resembles  the  question  of 
numbers. 

I  am  not  concerned  here  with  the  pedagogical  questions  of 
academic  standards ;  those  belong  rather  to  a  conference  of  teachers 
than  to  the  present  occasion.  I  am  looking  at  the  larger  question 
of  the  content  of  the  courses  of  study  which  the  universities  shall 
offer.  A  generation  ago  this  question  did  not  exist;  for  whatever 
might  be  the  type  of  the  four-year  course  of  study,  no  one  doubted 
that  its  general  aim  was  rather  to  graduate  youth  with  a  grasp  of 
fundamental  principles  than  to  provide  them  with  equipment  for 
practical  life.  The  latter  service  was  left  to  the  post-collegiate 
training  of  the  larger  world.  But  gradually  the  public  discovered 
that  college  training  could  be  of  service  in  many  ways  more  directly 
associated  with  the  outer  world  than  was  the  older  type  of  college. 
Direct  and  professional  training  was  required  in  increasing  amount 
of  all  who  would  teach.  Business  in  its  larger  forms  discovered 
that  much  besides  a  "general  education"  could  be  gained  in  college. 
Agriculture  found  that  specific  courses  of  study  in  farming  were 
valuable  as  well  as  the  study  of  chemistry  of  soils  and  of  nutrition. 
A  host  of  new  lines  of  employment  has  recently  developed — social 
work  in  cities  and  in  large  manufacturing  concerns,  secretarial 
and  administrative  and  technical  positions  of  all  kinds — and  all 
of  them  look  toward  the  college  and  especially  toward  the  university 
to  lend  direct  aid  in  preparing  students  for  an  endless  variety  of 
service  to  the  public. 

This  situation  has  been  growing  steadily  and,  as  we  of  the 
universities  thought,  very  rapidly  in  the  decade  or  two  preceding 
the  war.  But  the  war  has  given  it  an  impulse  which  makes  its 
earlier  manifestations  seem  both  insignificant  and  slow.  The  war 
on  the  one  hand  inevitably  placed  an  enormous  pressure  on  instant 
readiness  for  accomplishing  needed  results,  and  on  the  other  hand  it 
demonstrated  to  the  public  in  the  most  dramatic  fashion  the  un- 
recognized truth  that  many  capacities  of  men  which  it  thought  were 
gifts  of  nature  were  really  the  products  of  training.  Hence  has 
arisen  a  demand  for  training  far  more  specific  than  universities 
have  ever  given  and  enormously  more  extended  in  range  and 
variety.  The  general  college  course  is  seemingly  threatened  with 


214  Indiana  University 

extinction  amid  the  rivalries  of  technical,  semi- technical,  and 
vocational  courses. 

There  are  two  matters  of  interest  somewhat  to  one  side  of  the 
main  line  of  my  thought  which  I  introduce  here.  The  first  is  that 
while  the  general  university  courses  have  been  made  more  specific 
and  professional,  the  professional  courses  of  law  and  medicine  have 
been  rapidly  turning  their  attention  from  practical  matters  to  the 
fundamental  principles  which  underlie  their  respective  professions. 
The  graduate  of  the  law  school  is  no  longer  told  that  at  graduation 
he  is  ready  to  "hang  out  his  shingle  and  wait  for  clients".  The 
diploma  of  M.D.  must  now  be  supplemented  by  hospital  experience 
before  the  young  doctor  believes  himself  ready  to  treat  patients. 
This  change  is  the  result  of  the  same  forces  that  are  modifying 
college  courses  in  the  opposite  direction,  the  demand  for  more 
adequate  preparation  for  the  work  of  life.  This  means  the  introduc- 
tion of  specific  training  where  it  has  not  previously  existed  and  the 
ousting  of  specific  training  where  it  once  existed  by  the  demand  for 
a  wider  grasp  of  principles. 

The  second  point  is  that  our  troubles  come  from  the  apparent 
necessity  of  fitting  our  studies  within  the  frame  of  the  four-year 
course.  We  are  not  free  to  lengthen  our  courses  of  study  in  the 
face  of  a  reasonable  demand  that  youth  shall  be  prepared  as  promptly 
as  possible  for  the  active  duties  of  life.  It  is  now  difficult  for 
a  physician  to  start  independent  practice  much  before  the  age  of 
thirty,  and  more  than  murmurs  are  heard  of  opposition  to  a 
system  of  education  which  so  long  delays  entrance  upon  active  life. 
And  even  if  there  were  no  such  criticism,  we  should  hesitate  to 
ask  our  students  who  are  seeking  aid  in  most  of  these  new  directions 
to  give  to  study  a  longer  time  than  four  years  after  the  secondary 
school.  In  most  cases  the  traffic  will  not  bear  a  higher  tariff; 
for  the  rewards  of  these  professions  and  semi-professions  are  not 
great.  They  are  mostly  positions  with  relatively  small  salaries 
or  occupations  with  very  moderate  financial  returns.  Thus  the 
easy  solution  of  maintaining  the  old  course  and  adding  another  year 
or  two  of  professional  study  is  not  at  present  open  to  us. 

Nor  can  the  state  universities  at  least  refuse  the  call  for  aid 
which  comes  from  society.  One  main  function  of  a  state  university 
is  to  apply  learning  to  the  amelioration  of  the  life  of  the  state 
which  it  represents,  and  that  in  no  merely  remote  and  indirect 
fashion.  The  responsibility  for  the  advance  of  the  common  life 
of  the  state  rests  upon  its  university  in  a  fashion  which  must  be 
welcomed  today  as  it  always  has  been  in  the  past.  We  cannot 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  215 

therefore  escape  these  new  conditions  by  asserting  the  policy  that 
we  will  teach  only  principles,  and  that  practical  applications 
must  be  sought  in  graduate  courses  and  in  the  teachings  of  life 
outside  of  college.  We  have  in  a  hundred  directions  assumed  the 
leadership  of  our  respective  communities  in  matters  which  intimately 
concern  practical  affairs.  Experience  has  shown  us  that  such 
leadership  is  not  a  function  to  be  assumed  for  a  time  and  then 
dropped  or  turned  over  to  other  agencies.  We  find  that  progress 
in  a  state  depends  on  the  constant  help  of  men  of  power  in  central 
positions ;  that  those  who  at  the  first  preached  the  gospel  of  economic 
and  social  progress  to  the  people  and  who  secured  a  hearing  and 
acceptance  for  it  cannot  turn  over  to  others  their  function.  They 
are  no  less  needed  to  guide  the  later  movement  and  to  find  out  still 
other  workable  possibilities  of  betterment. 

The  new  century  seems  to  bring  us  face  to  face  with  another 
group  of  problems  as  fundamental  and  apparently  as  insoluble  as 
those  presented  by  numbers  and  by  budgets.  On  the  one  hand, 
we  cannot  ignore  the  challenge  of  the  new  world  which  is  so  rapidly 
developing  around  us.  On  the  other  hand,  how  shall  we  incor- 
porate the  vocational  studies  called  for  by  those  new  demands 
without  losing  from  our  courses  that  which  has  given  them  their 
permanent  value  in  the  lives  of  our  graduates? 

For  those  who  constantly  press  upon  us  specific  studies  as 
preparation  for  specific  functions  in  business  and  society  forget 
too  often  that  the  permanent  value  of  a  university  education  rests 
not  in  the  immediate  economic  value  to  the  young  graduate  but  in 
the  grasp  of  fundamental  ideas  and  principles  which  it  has  given  to 
him  and  which  he  will  be  able  to  apply  in  countless  ways  unsuspected 
when  he  leaves  college.  It  is  easy  for  higher  education  to  degenerate 
into  rule-of-thumb  instruction,  and  no  instruction  is  so  available 
for  the  present  or  so  worthless  in  the  long  run  as  is  that  of  "imme- 
diate practical  value". 

And  this  demand  for  specialization  is  by  no  means  confined  to 
representatives  of  the  extra-university  world  who  ask  direct  and 
specific  help.  The  call  is  perhaps  quite  as  insistent  within  univeisity 
walls.  Who  of  us  has  held  an  administrative  position  for  even  a 
few  years  without  being  told — for  instance — that  an  elementary 
freshman  course  in  history  must  be  different  for  intending  teachers 
from  that  for  others?  Who  has  not  heard  the  same  statement  re- 
garding necessity  of  similar  differentiated  courses  in  history  for 
future  students  of  law,  of  political  economy,  and  of  business? 


2J6  Indiana  University 

The  same  need  of  specialized  elementary  courses  is  urged  upon  us 
in  the  case  of  practically  every  freshman  study — physics,  chemistry, 
foreign  language,  English — the  university  is  asked  to  adjust  all  of 
its  lines  of  teaching  from  the  first  to  specific  future  needs  of  the 
student.  Neither  in  nor  out  of  the  college  is  it  easy  to  find  the 
presumption  that  the  student  who  has  a  good  elementary 
knowledge  of  a  subject  can  apply  that  knowledge  in  many  various 
practical  directions  of  later  study.  It  does  not  seem  to  be  presumed 
that  the  student  as  he  passes  from  history  to  economics  may  be  able 
to  review  his  knowledge  from  the  new  standpoint  which  additional 
study  brings.  Still  less  is  it  assumed  that  this  power  is  a  normal 
part  of  a  higher  education. 

Thus  the  university  administrator  finds  in  this  relation  a  com- 
plex of  problems  for  which  no  general  solution  can  even  be  stated, 
much  less  advocated.  He  finds  a  conflict  of  duties — of  duty  toward 
the  fundamental  purpose  of  a  university,  that  of  transmitting  to  the 
new  generation  the  results  and  achievements  of  human  life  for  its 
guidance  and  inspiration,  and  of  duty  toward  an  equally  fundamen- 
tal function,  that  of  presenting  these  results  so  as  to  better  the  social 
life  not  only  in  general  ways  but  in  specific  directions.  The  con- 
tinuity of  human  thought  and  experience  depends  in  great  measure 
on  the  fidelity  of  universities  to  the  first  function  and  the  vigor  with 
which  they  execute  it.  The  permanence  of  human  progress  depends 
also  on  the  maintenance  of  this  continuity.  The  university  cannot 
forget  this  and  still  remain  a  university.  It  is  equally  impossible 
for  the  state  university  to  divest  herself  of  the  duty  of  leadership 
in  the  new  world  and  of  guidance  in  specific  directions. 

How  combine  the  old  and  the  new  in  the  all  too  narrow  frame 
of  a  four-year  course?  The  problem,  so  far  as  it  is  soluble  at 
present,  reduces  itself  to  one  of  time,  and  thus  comes  back  to  the 
same  point  at  which  we  left  the  problems  involved  in  numbers  and 
costs.  Our  school  system  as  a  whole  must  accept  the  duty  which  the 
times  put  upon  us  of  bring  forward  our  youth  more  rapidly,  so  that  at 
the  age  of  eighteen  or  of  twenty-two  they  may  be  at  least  a  year  or 
even  two  years  in  advance  of  their  present  attainments. 

But  such  a  movement  is  by  no  means  a  simple  or  easy  one,  for 
it  involves  fundamental  changes  in  our  school  system  and  changes 
which  we  at  least  who  are  older  are  very  reluctant  to  contemplate 
and  which  we  can  adopt  only  under  the  compulsion  of  social  neces- 
sity. Our  school  system  has  been  open  to  all  on  substantially  the 
same  terms,  and  the  student  has  been  free  to  postpone  from  year  to 
year  his  decision  on  the  most  important  matters  of  his  educational 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  217 

future.  Even  six  months  in  advance  is  too  long  a  time  for  him. 
We  may  criticize  the  excessive  manifestations  of  this  privilege  but 
we  cannot  fail  to  recognize  its  possibilities  for  a  democracy  or  to 
regret  any  necessity  of  limiting  it ;  and  the  same  statement  applies 
even  more  to  the  situation  as  regards  the  content  of  courses  of  study. 
For  parallel  with  the  growth  of  high  school  has  come  a  rise  of  age 
when  youth  enter  into  industries.  The  school  systems  of  our  cities 
contain  thousands  of  students  who  are  at  an  age  far  above  that  of 
their  parents  when  they  in  their  day  exchanged  the  lessons  of 
school  for  the  teaching  of  active  experience.  Many  of  these  students 
are  past  the  stage  where  they  are  really  profiting  by  that  study  of 
books  which  is  necessary  for  the  youth  who  is  to  go  on  with  college 
work.  The  inevitable  result  is  a  slowing  of  the  pace  of  the  high 
school,  a  relaxation  of  its  requirements  so  that  it  may  suit  the  needs 
of  students  who  feel  themselves  nearing  the  end  of  study  and  are 
rather  looking  to  find  a  few  months  of  relative  ease  before  under- 
taking the  strenuous  activities  of  business  than  to  acquiring  all 
possible  learning  in  the  few  remaining  weeks  of  school.  If  the 
standards  are  raised,  if  the  pace  is  quickened,  as  it  ought  to  be  for 
the  youth  who  is  going  to  college,  standards  will  be  too  high  and 
pace  too  rapid  for  many  of  those  who  are  nearing  the  close  of  their 
schooling.  Yet  this  common  life  and  common  schooling  of  the 
youth  of  a  community  have  meant  much  for  democracy  which  we 
must  not  lose.  It  is  no  small  thing  to  carry  along  the  youth  of  a 
whole  city  together  in  a  common  system  of  instruction  until  they 
have  reached  the  age  of  sixteen  to  eighteen  years.  There  is  a  distinct 
gain  in  a  system  which  permits  postponement  of  decision  as  to 
future  career  to  as  late  a  date  as  possible,  which  gives  to  every 
ambitious  youth  a  chance  of  a  common  education,  which  keeps 
open  for  them  all  the  paths  of  intellectual  progress  and  which  does 
not  shunt  them  into  the  by-paths  and  blind  alleys  of  education. 
There  is  a  great  gain  for  an  educated  democracy  in  a  system  which 
does  not  attempt  early  specialization,  which,  on  the  contrary,  is 
definitely  concerned  to  postpone  it.  Yet  the  inexorable  march  of 
events  is  demanding  changes  in  this  as  well  as  in  many  other  aspects 
of  democracy.  We  older  people  are  being  forced  to  learn  that 
much  which  we  thought  characteristic  of  democracy  is  really  the 
fortunate  product  of  a  new  country.  We,  with  all  the  people,  are 
being  forced — however  reluctantly — to  solve  the  problem  of  a 
democracy  in  a  time  of  change,  for  a  crowded  population,  for  highly 
organized  competitive  states  and  nations. 


218  Indiana  University 

And  foremost  among  the  problems  which  we  must  solve  is  that  of 
time  in  education.  How  can  we  turn  out  our  youth  at  the  age  of 
twenty  or  twenty-two,  better  prepared  for  active  life  than  now, 
and  at  the  same  time  educated,  not  merely  vocationalized?  The 
education  of  a  merchant,  a  manufacturer, — what  you  will — is  one 
thing,  and  a  very  important  one;  but  the  liberal  education,  the  train- 
ing for  a  free  man  in  a  free  state  is  still  more  necessary,  not  only  to 
democracy  but  also  to  our  civilization.  And  while  we  must  do  much 
vocational  training,  do  it  largely  and  sympathetically,  we  must  not 
leave  the  other  undone,  or  only  half  done. 

If  the  preceding  conclusions  of  this  paper  are  correct,  the  state 
univeisities  are  entering  upon  a  period  in  which  the  available 
resources  of  the  state  will  be  taxed  to  meet  the  increasing  cost 
occasioned  by  the  increased  number  of  students,  the  decreased 
purchasing  power  of  money,  and  the  necessity  of  expansion  and 
diversification  in  instruction.    Yet  the  problems  of  the  future  are  by 
no  means  exhausted  by  this  statement.    We  have  hitherto  regarded 
university  education  as  remaining  on  the  plane  which  it  has  reached. 
It  is  the  function  of  the  state  university  to  bring  its  people  up  to  the 
level   which   that  education   indicates.     But   for  our  states   this 
result  is  far  from  adequate.    All  of  these  north  central  states  are 
now  fully  out  of  the  pioneer  period;  they  have  passed  or  are 
passing  out  of  the  purely  agricultural  stage.    All  are  still  primarily 
agricultural  but  all  are  developing  great    manufactures  and  with 
them  large  communities.    All  of  the  problems  of  developing  towns, 
of  great  cities,  of  a  dense  population,  are  before  us.    These  include 
not  only  new  lines  of  study  on  the  old  plane,  but  they  demand 
the  advance  of  university  education,  the  introduction  of  studies  not 
of  immediate  practical  value  but  which  will  influence  the  life  of  the 
future  and  which  cannot  be  extemporized  as  the  need  for  them  arises. 
Let    me    illustrate    my    point.      Does    any    representative    of 
the  older  states  here  present  doubt  the  great  advantage  to  his 
state  if  its  university    had  maintained  for  the  past  generation  a 
department  of  art?    I  do  not  mean  a  lectureship  or  a  professorship, 
but  a  department  comparable  in  strength  and  in  cost  to  the  de- 
partments of  chemistry  or  geology.     Consider  the  result  on  city 
planning  in  the  scores  of  smaller  towns  that  have  grown  into 
cities  or  are  now  entering  that  stage,   if  their  citizens  had  been 
accustomed  to  look  to  the  university  for  guidance  in  such  matters 
as  they  look  in  questions  of  engineering  01  of  school  administration. 
What  would  have  been  the  effect  on  the  thousands  of  students 
who  are  now  leading  citizens  in  their  communities,  if  they  had 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  219 

been  conscious  thruout  their  course  of  an  art  influence  in  the 
university  comparable  in  power  to  the  scientific  influence  which 
has  been  present?  Our  states  are  now  rapidly  acquiring  wealth 
which  should  express  itself  in  beauty,  which  desires  such  expression 
and  which  will  find  it  in  a  way,  but  for  which  no  central  guidance 
is  present  as  it  is  present  for  that  part  of  wealth  which  is  spent, 
let  us  say,  for  roads,  for  sewers,  or  for  the  relief  of  disease  and 
want.  If  we  look  forward  for  twenty-five  years  and  foresee  the 
cities  and  towns  of  the  future,  how  imperative  will  be  their  needs 
of  this  kind,  how  civilizing  such  an  influence  upon  this  increasing 
wealth!  Yet  was  there  in  the  past  any  time  when  we  could  have 
expected  our  legislatures — with  all  their  appreciation  of  learning 
and  with  all  their  generosity  toward  it — when  we  could  have  ex- 
pected them  to  provide  thus  largely  for  art  in  its  various  forms  in 
addition  to  their  provision  for  the  standard  departments  of  a 
university?  And  what  of  the  future?  Can  we  expect  the  public 
at  large  to  forecast  the  somewhat  remote  future  so  clearly,  to  pro- 
vide for  it  so  liberally,  besides  providing  in  a  similar  way  for  the 
present  and  for  the  years  close  at  hand  whose  needs  are  plainly 
visible?  And  what  of  the  present?  Do  we  see  that  even  the  most 
large-minded  legislature  will  provide  for  our  enormously  increased 
programs  and  to  this  provision  add  also  large  means  for  these 
seemingly  remote  needs? 

I  believe  that  in  this  direction  lies  the  specific  duty  of  the  alumni 
of  state  universities.  There  has  always  been  a  difference  between 
our  alumni  and  those  of  the  endowed  institutions.  Our  alumni  have 
regarded  the  university  as  holding  the  same  relation  to  the  state 
that  the  high  school  holds  to  the  city.  It  offers  privileges  to  the 
public  freely  and  asks  of  the  individual  only  that  assistance  which 
comes  from  public-spirited  citizens.  This  attitude  had  much 
to  justify  itself  in  the  past.  When  universities  were  small  institu- 
tions, offering  mainly  standardized  courses  to  relatively  few 
students,  there  was  no  need  of  other  assistance.  Nor  ought  the 
state  university  now  to  seek  aid  except  from  the  public  in  providing 
adequate  salaries  for  its  teachers,  adequate  classrooms  and  labo- 
ratories, and  the  necessary  enlargement  of  the  standard  work  of  a 
university.  But  as  these  items  of  cost  increase,  so  that  the  univer- 
sity becomes  perhaps  by  far  the  most  expensive  single  part  of 
the  state  government,  a  new  condition  is  created.  Still  more  is  the 
situation  changed  when  we  can  clearly  foresee  the  present  need  for 
much  that  will  be  available  for  practical  life  only  after  the  lapse  of 
years.  If  the  university  system  is  to  be  raised  to  a  higher  plane  in 


220  Indiana  University 

such  matters,  it  must  be  by  the  aid  of  those  who  have  already  profited 
by  it  and  can  therefore  appreciate  future  needs  better  than  others 
who  have  not  had  their  good  fortune. 

This  duty  rests  immediately  on  our  alumni — on  those  whom 
the  state  has  raised  to  the  level  of  the  standard  university  of 
their  own  day,  on  those  who  have  received  at  the  hands  of  the  state 
the  elements  of  the  intellectual  life  and  with  them  the  gift  of  appre- 
ciating the  higher  needs  not  only  of  themselves  but  of  the  people. 

The  states  have  been  quick  to  appreciate  and  ready  to  provide 
for  university  education  on  the  standard  level.  But  it  will  never 
be  easy,  it  will  often  be  impossible,  to  obtain  from  the  public  the 
large  means  necessary  to  raise  at  once  the  level  of  university  educa- 
tion, to  introduce  in  strength  and  in  vigor  those  influences  in  univer- 
sity life  from  which  we  may  not  expect  immediate  returns  but  which 
in  the  long  run  are  of  enormous  value  to  the  state. 

I  use  the  word  introduce  intentionally.  For  these  advances 
in  education  will  soon  come  to  be  part  of  the  standard  course, 
accepted  and  supported  by  the  state.  However  largely  they  may 
be  endowed,  they  will  outgrow  their  endowment  and  the  state  will 
carry  them  on  in  their  larger  life.  And  when  this  happens  to  one 
line  of  advanced  work,  our  alumni  should  be  busied  with  others 
equally  necessary  and  equally  difficult  to  reach  at  once  in  the 
strength  needed  by  the  state. 

For  art  is  only  one  of  the  many  directions  in  which  the  level  of 
the  university  course  must  be  raised.  There  are  also  needed 
opportunities  for  research  enlarged  wholly  beyond  even  the  hopes 
of  those  of  us  who  administer  universities.  The  state  is  already 
providing  generously,  tho  all  too  inadequately,  for  those  lines 
of  research  in  which  science  is  trying  to  solve  the  practical  pro- 
blems of  life.  It  is  granting  to  all  teachers  the  facilities  and  the 
time  necessary  to  keep  their  teaching  fresh  and  vital.  But  none 
of  us  yet  sees,  except  in  a  vague  and  general  way,  how  close  is  the 
connection  between  higher  research  and  public  prosperity.  Even 
less  adequately  do  we  realize  how  necessary  to  the  continued  life  of 
the  commonwealth  is  the  spirit  of  research  among  the  people,  how 
vital  the  importance  of  seeking  out  and  cultivating  along  every  line 
that  rarest  of  all  intellectual  qualities,  the  capacity  for  productive 
research,  not  alone  that  which  advances  knowledge  along  paths 
already  marked  out,  but  that  which  finds  new  ways  into  the  world 
of  the  unknown. 

All  of  our  states  provide  in  some  degree  for  this  kind  of  research 
and  some  of  them  make  a  liberal  provision  for  it.    But  does  any 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  221 

of  them  appreciate  its  necessity,  its  cost,  or  the  long  chances  of 
success,  the  long  time  for  its  fruition  in  the  common  life?  There  is 
but  one  answer  and  that  the  one  which  we  must  expect.  For  the 
position  of  our  people  today  in  regard  to  research  of  this  kind 
and  on  this  scale  is  what  it  was  a  generation  ago  in  regard  to  art. 
They  were  then  just  emerging  from  the  pioneer  stage;  they  had 
reached  the  condition  of  achieved  comfort,  but  they  did  not  and 
could  not  visualize  a  future — tho  it  was  only  a  few  years  ahead — 
when  there  would  be  imperative  need  of  providing  conditions  of 
life,  public  and  private,  adequate  in  beauty  as  well  as  in  comfort. 

So  of  this  higher  research  today.  Our  people  see  the  need  of 
studies  in  agriculture,  in  engineering,  in  sociology.  But  they  do 
not  see  how  these  investigations  are  made  possible  today  by  the 
obscure  labors  in  the  last  generation  of  organic  chemists,  of  mathe- 
maticians and  physicists,  of  statisticians  and  philosophers.  Still 
less  do  they  see  that  the  applied  research  of  the  next  generation — 
enormously  enlarged  in  its  range  and  amount — will  be  fruitless  unless 
it  can  have  behind  it  a  similarly  increased  volume  and  weight  of 
pure  research,  directed  toward  all  sorts  of  ends,  even  toward  those 
which  today  seem  most  unlikely  to  yield  practical  results.  Still 
less  do  they  see  that  the  youth  who  are  capable  of  research  are,  in 
the  highest  sense,  the  growing  points  of  the  public  life — the  buds 
out  of  which  are  to  come  the  branches  that  shall  bear  blossoms  and 
fruit  for  another  generation.  Can  we  expect  that  the  larger  public 
will  so  forecast  the  future,  so  visualize  the  present  conditions  of  its 
still  unknown  successes  and  failures  as  to  make  large  financial 
sacrifices  for  that  future? 

But  our  alumni,  those  to  whom  the  state  has  given  the  best 
of  its  opportunities,  those  whom  the  state  has  led  along  the  paths 
of  education  from  childhood  on,  until  they  have  reached  the 
limit  of  the  knowledge  of  their  day,  until  they  have  attained  a 
position  from  which  they  can  see  over  into  the  future  and  forecast 
its  needs — ought  not  their  Alma  Mater  to  be  able  to  turn  to  them 
in  confident  expectation  that  they  will  fully  appreciate  these  needs 
and  will  so  act  that  each  coming  generation  will  reach  a  higher  level 
than  its  predecessor? 

If  they  accept  this  duty,  they  will  not  be  left  to  themselves. 
The  public  is  somewhat  slow  to  respond  to  the  plea  of  university 
authorities  for  these  higher  things.  Theirs  is  a  plea  pro  domo  sua 
and  is  subject  to  the  deductions  which  such  a  plea  always  receives. 
But  when  that  great  confraternity  of  alumni  in  every  city  and 
village  of  the  state,  in  office  and  shop  and  farm,  is  everywhere 


222  Indiana  University 

animated  by  the  determination  to  raise  the  intellectual  level  of 
university  life  and  is  ready  to  make  personal  sacrifices  for  that  end, 
then  the  larger  public  will  be  not  only  willing  but  eager  to  take  a 
full  share  in  maintaining  and  increasing  a  work  so  beneficent. 

I  do  not  know  whether  you  have  gathered  more  courage  than 
perplexity  from  this  summary  recital  of  our  problems.  All  those 
might  reasonably  be  perplexed  who  feel  it  necessary  to  forecast  ex- 
actly the  conditions  of  the  future,  to  foresee  future  needs  and  the 
means  of  meeting  them.  None  of  us  today  can  know  how  we  are 
to  be  equal  to  the  demands  of  the  coming  days,  whether  financial, 
scholastic,  or  educational.  Yet  we  may  be  sure  that  these  demands 
will  be  met  as  the  coming  days  present  them  in  concrete  form. 
For  they  are  the  problems  of  strength,  not  of  weakness;  the  dif- 
ficulties of  youth  and  manhood,  not  of  infancy  or  senility.  They 
arise  not  from  past  failures  but  from  past  success.  The  university 
and  the  state  are  today  united  far  more  closely  than  was  even 
foreshadowed  in  our  hopes  a  generation  ago.  It  is  out  of  that  ac- 
complished union  of  purposes  and  of  life  that  our  difficulties  spring. 
They  are  the  material  difficulties  of  a  work  and  an  influence  en- 
larging more  rapidly  than  the  resources  provided  for  them.  They 
are  the  scholastic  troubles  of  an  education  which  has  enlarged 
more  rapidly  than  it  has  solidified,  and  which  is  still  urged  forward 
by  necessity.  They  are  above  all  the  troubles  of  those  to  whom 
present  success  reveals  the  imperative  need  in  coming  days  for  higher 
achievements  than  are  permitted  by  the  resources  of  the  present. 

Surely  we  may  "thank  God  and  take  courage"  as  we  face  these 
problems.  We  shall  not  be  satisfied  with  our  solutions.  They  will 
undoubtedly  be  quite  as  inadequate  for  the  large  questions  of 
present  and  future  as  were  our  solutions  of  the  smaller  questions  of 
the  past.  We  shall  find  no  easy  or  straightforward  path  of  progress. 
We  shall  make  many  mistakes;  we  shall  meet  many  reverses, 
many  disappointments.  But  thru  all  of  them  the  powers  of  the 
state  university  will  develop,  her  usefulness  will  grow,  and  her  life — 
united  with  that  of  the  state — will  be  enlarged.  That  common  life 
will  become  clearer  and  richer  and  stronger  until  in  state  and 
university  alike  the  visions  of  youth  shall  be  fulfilled  and  the 
dreams  of  age  shall  come  true. 


THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  THE  STATE 
UNIVERSITY 


Paul  Shorey  was  born  at  Davenport,  Iowa,  on  August  3,  1857.  He  was 
educated  at  Harvard  University  (A.B.,  1878),  University  of  Leipzig,  University  of 
Bonn,  American  School  of  Classical  Studies  in  Athens,  University  of  Munich 
(Ph.D.,  1884).  He  has  received  the  following  honorary  degrees:  LL.D.,  Iowa 
College,  1905;  University  of  Missouri,  1913;  Johns  Hopkins  University,  1915; 
University  of  Michigan,  1915;  University  of  Colorado,  1917;  Litt.D.,  University 
of  Wisconsin,  1911;  Brown  University,  1914;  Princeton  University,  1920.  He 
was  admitted  to  the  Chicago  bar  in  1880.  From  1885  to  1892  he  was  professor 
of  Greek  in  Bryn  Mawr  College,  since  1892  in  the  University  of  Chicago.  He 
has  been  head  of  the  Greek  department  since  1896.  In  1901-2  he  was  director 
of  the  American  School  of  Classical  Studies  in  Athens;  Turnbull  lecturer  in  poetry, 
Johns  Hopkins  University,  1912;  Roosevelt  professor  at  the  University  of  Berlin 
in  1913-14;  editor  of  Classical  Philology  since  1908;  president  of  the  American 
Philological  Association,  1910;  member  of  the  National  Institute  of  Arts  and 
Letters;  member  of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Letters.  Among  his 
published  works  are  De  Platonis  Idearium  Doctrina,  The  Idea  of  Good  in  Plato's 
Republic;  The  Odes  and  Epodes  of  Horace;  The  Unity  of  Plato's  Thought;  The 
Assault  on  Humanism. 


(233) 


THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  THE  STATE 
UNIVERSITY 

By  PAUL  SHOREY 

THE  DECISION  of  the  Civil  War  and  the  general  drift  of  our 
development  towards  unity  and  centralization  tempt  us  to  do 
something  less  than  justice  to  the  contribution  of  our  state  govern- 
ments to  American  prosperity.  In  spite  of  the  homogeneity  of 
our  people,  the  unity  of  language,  literature,  and  law,  and  the 
leveling  of  differences  by  the  railway  and  the  telegraph,  the  im- 
portance of  the  states  for  American  life  is  greater  than  we  realize. 
We  lightly  say  that  ours  is  the  first  successful  federal  government  on 
a  large  scale.  But  we  take  for  granted  the  blessings  that  this  system 
has  brought  us  and  rarely  reflect  upon  the  unique  combination 
of  flexibility  with  stability  that  our  state  governments  secure  for 
the  national  life.  It  would  be  a  much  more  profitable  line  of  re- 
flection than  the  ingenious  and  unsettling  historical  science  which 
teaches  that  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  is  an  eighteenth- 
century  strait- jacket  imposed  upon  our  natural  growth  and  progress 
by  designing  plutocrats.  Under  normal  conditions  we  are  sometimes 
a  little  neglectful  of  our  state  governments  and  console  ourselves 
for  the  mediocrity  of  the  personnel  that  sometimes  results  from  this 
carelessness  by  celebrating  the  superior  dignity  and  authority  of 
Uncle  Sam.  Impatient  reformers  sometimes  seek  to  extend  the 
authority  of  the  central  government  to  the  regulation  of  our  entire 
lives  and  the  wiping  out  of  all  anomalies  in  the  legislation  of  forty- 
eight  states. 

Any  and  every  revolution,  they  perceive,  could  then  be  easily 
effected  by  simply  seizing  the  helm  at  Washington.  In  the  face  of 
such  designs  it  is  a  comforting  reflection  that  a  complete  collapse  of 
the  central  government  would  not  give  the  American  people  over  to 
anarchy.  Many  of  our  forty-eight  states  are  indeed  almost  what 
the  orators  style  them,  self-contained  empires.  Not  a  few  of  them 
could  feed  themselves  and  many  of  them  in  combination  with  neigh- 
boring states  could,  if  put  to  it,  provide  all  the  essentials  of  a  tolerable 
existence. 

But  I  am  not  now  thinking  of  these  material  considerations — of 
the  fact  that  New  York  surpasses  a  Belgium,  a  Holland,  or  a  Den- 
mark in  population  and  wealth  or  that  famous  historic  states  of 

(225) 


226  Indiana  University 

Europe  could  be  lost  in  Texas  or  California.  I  have  in  mind  the 
fact  so  familiar  that  we  fail  to  appreciate  its  significance  that  every 
one  of  these  forty-eight  states  possesses  an  established  government 
with  developed  legislative,  executive,  judicial,  military,  and  tax 
collecting  organs,  and  within  a  month  could  add  to  these  the  func- 
tions of  coinage,  diplomacy,  and  the  post-office,  convert  its  militia 
into  an  embryo  army,  and  stand  forth  to  the  world  a  complete 
nation,  far  more  stable  in  its  traditions  and  politically  educated  in 
its  citizenship  than  half  of  the  nations  with  which  the  wars  of  the 
past  century  have  checkered  and  Balkanized  the  map  of  Europe. 
A  conference  of  a  dozen  governors  could  organize  a  group  of  such 
states  into  a  league  over  which  neither  anarchy  at  the  center  nor 
invasion  at  the  circumference  could  easily  prevail.  Such  in  the  last 
resort  and  from  the  point  of  view  of  political  stability  and  the 
balance  of  power  are  some  of  the  potentialities  of  the  system  of 
state  governments  that  we  take  so  lightly  and  sometimes  so  hu- 
morously. 

But  it  has  another  significance  the  consideration  of  which  is 
more  appropriate  for  this  occasion.  The  states  are,  as  it  were,  so- 
ciological laboratories  for  the  trying  of  experiments  which  might 
be  hazardous  and  revolutionary  if  attempted  on  a  national  scale. 
In  this  way,  valuable  or  specious  ideas  in  finance,  banking,  taxation, 
prison  administration  and  reform,  charity,  and  the  machinery  of 
elections  may  be  tested  by  single  states,  allowing  the  nation  as  a 
whole  to  live  by  the  ancient  maxim,  Prove  all  things,  hold  fast  that 
which  is  good.  Among  the  greatest  of  the  subjects  thus  left  to  the 
states  is  education.  There  is  nothing  in  the  Constitution  to  prevent 
concurrent  action  by  the  national  government.  Washington  and 
many  since  conceived  of  a  national  university  to  complete  and  crown 
the  systems  of  local  education.  And  it  may  be  that  in  the  future  the 
national  government  will  be  more  active  than  in  the  past  in  coor- 
dination and  direction,  and  in  the  equalizing  of  opportunities. 
But,  in  the  main,  American  education  hitherto  from  the  kindergar- 
ten to  the  university  has  been  a  function  of  the  state  by  the  author- 
ity of  which  all  higher  degrees  are  conferred.  In  the  actual  order 
of  development,  however,  state  schools  and  colleges  came  later 
than  the  local,  endowed  private,  and  denominational  institutions, 
altho  historians  of  state  universities  are  accustomed  to  point  out 
that  state  initiative,  assistance,  and  control  played  no  slight  part  in 
the  foundation  and  early  history  of  Harvard,  Yale,  Princeton,  and 
other  of  the  nine  chief  Colonial  colleges  of  the  original  states.  But 
whatever  the  history  of  the  idea,  state  universities  in  common 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  227 

parlance  means  the  institutions  so  designated  of  the  southern  and 
western  states.  And  especially  those  now  thirty  in  number  that 
by  organizing  themselves  in  1895  as  The  Association  of  State  Uni- 
versities recognized  that  for  the  present  they  constitute  in  some 
sense  a  distinct  species  from  the  older  and  larger  endowed  univer- 
sities on  the  one  hand  and  the  small  colleges,  largely  of  denomina- 
tional origin,  on  the  other. 

The  rivalry  of  the  state  universities  with  the  older  endowed 
institutions  has  always  been  a  generous  one.  In  the  infancy  of  the 
state  universities  their  faculties  were  largely  recruited  from  the 
older  institutions,  and  as  they  developed  professors  passed  to  and 
fro  from  the  one  group  to  the  other  with  no  deep  sense  of  difference. 
And  now  that  the  final  predominance  of  the  state  university  is 
assured,  none  but  the  few  fanatics  of  democracy  and  secularism  will 
make  ungenerous  use  of  their  triumph  or  seek  to  hasten  unduly 
the  inevitable  results.  Our  national  culture  will  profit  by  the 
existence  of  the  two  competing  types  and  for  many  decades  to  come 
the  greater  endowed  universities,  strong  in  the  loyalty  of  their  alumni, 
will  survive,  and  while  changing  with  the  changing  world,  will 
preserve  something  of  older  traditions  that  the  world  will  not  will- 
ingly let  die.  But  that  in  the  final  outcome  the  state  university 
is  to  be  the  prevailing  type  hardly  admits  of  doubt.  The  states  are 
nothing  less  than  empires.  However  humble  the  beginnings  of  the 
state  university,  whatever  the  temporary  waste  of  funds,  dissipa- 
tion of  energy,  and  compromising  of  ideals  before  the  people  have 
learned  that  politics  and  the  university  idea  cannot  keep  house 
together,  there  always  comes  a  time  when  the  citizens  of  a  great 
state  begin  to  realize  what  a  true  university  is,  and  begin  to  take 
pride  in  the  excellence  or  feel  humiliated  by  the  deficiencies  of  their 
own  institution;  and  from  this  time  on  there  are  hardly  any  limits 
to  the  possibilities  of  the  state  university.  Why  should  we  do  less 
than  Michigan,  Wisconsin,  or  Indiana  has  done?  the  people  ask. 
And  the  universities  of  Missouri,  Ohio,  Illinois,  Texas,  California, 
Iowa,  and  Minnesota  enter  upon  a  swift  expansion  that  may  and  will 
stir  to  emulation  any  and  all  of  the  other  states.  No  private  en- 
dowments can  keep  pace  with  the  forces  thus  liberated.  The  mere 
increase  of  the  mill  tax  resulting  from  the  raised  valuation  of 
property  has  recently  given  to  one  state  university  an  augmentation 
of  revenue  equal  to  all  that  will  accrue  to  Harvard  from  her  fifteen- 
million-dollar  campaign.  And  a  single  provision  of  the  inheritance 
tax  or  a  lien  on  copper  deposits  insures  the  future  of  others. 

Confronted  with  the  vision  of  so  great  a  power,  the  first  instinct 


228  Indiana  University 

of  human  nature  is  to  convert  it  to  the  exclusive  service  of  our  own 
preferences  and  prejudices.  In  France  the  old  domination  of  educa- 
tion by  the  Jesuits  was  exchanged  for  the  hardly  less  narrow  sec- 
tarian tyranny  of  the  secularists  who  suppressed  the  long  established 
schools  of  the  religious  orders,  banished  God  and  the  Bible  from  the 
schools,  and  tried  to  instil  in  an  entire  generation  the  spirit  of  an 
Ingersoll,  a  M.  Homais,  or  a  Haeckel.  In  spite  of  the  numerous 
so-called  denominational  colleges  in  America,  we  have  suffered  little 
from  such  feuds.  The  state  universities  have  been  in  the  neutral 
sense  of  the  word  and  in  comparison  with  denominational  colleges 
secular.  They  have  never  been  militantly  secularist,  anti-clerical 
in  the  sense  of  anti-religious. 

But  there  have  been  times  and  places  where  the  state  univer- 
sities seemed  to  express  opposition  to  another  supposed  ideal  of  the 
older  types  of  college — namely,  the  conception  of  what  is  called 
a  general  or  a  cultural,  as  opposed  to  a  strictly  practical  or  vocational 
education.  There  were  many  natural  causes  for  this,  and  plausible 
reasons  could  be  alleged  in  its  support.  You  are  familiar  with  them. 
The  new  state  institutions  were  the  universities  of  the  people.  As 
such  they  ought  to  be  both  practical  and  democratic.  Practical 
in  the  narrower  sense  meant  that  they  should  prepare  the  student  for 
life,  and  to  earn  a  living,  should  stress  what  we  now  call  vocational 
studies.  Democracy  was  interpreted  to  mean  not  only  the  demo- 
cracy of  persons — equal  opportunity  for  all  and  the  abolition  of 
restrictive  admission  requirements — but  the  ideal  was  transferred 
from  persons  to  things  and  it  was  gravely  argued  that  the  principle 
of  democratic  equality  involved  the  equal  educational,  disciplinary, 
and  cultural  values  of  typewriting,  bookkeeping,  Greek,  and 
mathematics.  By  a  familiar  debater's  device  for  turning  the 
tables  on  your  opponent  it  was  argued  that  the  old  education  was 
vocational.  Harvard  College  was  a  vocational  school  for  ministers 
and  lawyers  and  men  of  letters  and  professors.  "Vocational  your- 
self" was  the  cry.  Lastly  it  could  be  said  that  the  older  endowed 
universities  sufficed  for  the  demand  of  the  older,  so-called  cultural 
type  of  education  and  that  the  new  universities  of  the  people 
should  provide  for  the  needs  of  the  new  time. 

Whatever  temporary  and  opportunist  truth  there  may  have 
been  in  this  contention,  the  question  assumes  a  different  aspect  if 
the  state  universities  are  destined  to  be  the  chief,  if  not  the  sole, 
organs  of  higher  education  in  America.  In  that  case  the  exclusion 
from  them  of  anything  required  for  the  full  development  of  our 
humanity  would  be  disastrous. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  229 

I  should  disappoint  the  expectations  of  those  who  invited  me 
to  speak  today  if  I  did  not  plead  against  a  policy  of  such  exclusion 
and  invite  your  attention  to  the  other  side  of  the  shield.  As  Emer- 
son once  said,  we  like  every  creature  to  do  after  his  kind  be  it 
scorpion  or  asp,  or,  I  will  add,  Greek  professor.  You  expect  the 
professor  of  Greek  to  make  his  formal  and  more  or  less  eloquent  plea 
for  the  ideal — for  the  ideals  of  culture,  discipline,  literature,  tradi- 
tion, and  the  things  that  he  holds  to  be  more  excellent.  You  do  not 
expect  to  believe  him  or  to  allow  your  actions  to  be  modified  by 
anything  that  he  ma}'  say.  But  as  the  audience  steals  away, 
smothering  its  yawns,  you  with  forced  heartiness  assure  the  speaker 
that  it  did  them  good.  They  needed  that  message.  The  net  out- 
come is  that  of  the  parson's  sermon  in  Tennyson's  "Northern 
Fanner": 

An'  'card  um  a  bummin'  awaay  loike  a  buzzard-clock  ower  my  'ead, 
An'  I  niver  knaw'd  whot  a  mean'd  but  I  thowt  a  'ad  summut  to  saay, 
An'  I  thowt  a  said  whot  a  owt  to  'a  said,  an'  I  coom'd  awaay. 

I  have  delivered  addresses  of  this  ideal  quality,  and  may  do  so 
again.  However  slight  the  impression  on  the  audience,  they  are  not 
wholly  thrown  away.  If  the  speaker  is  sincere  and  fervent,  he  may 
win  over  a  few  whose  own  spiritual  hunger  inclines  them  to  believe 
that  not  in  education  either  can  man  live  by  bread  alone.  He  may 
confirm  the  courage  of  a  few  doubters  and  waverers  who  else 
would  be  stunned  and  dismayed  by  the  incessant  din  of  the  hostile 
voices  of  the  press,  the  platform,  and  fellow  students.  Even  that 
slight  result  is  quite  worth  while. 

But  today  with  your  consent,  I  am  in  the  mood  to  present  my 
appeal  in  a  less  emotional  way.  All  reasonable  speakers  must  grow 
a  little  weary  of  fencing  matches  conducted  in  such  a  fog  of  general- 
ization that  there  is  no  real  crossing  of  blades  or  forcing  of  issues. 
Whether  education  should  be  preparation  for  life  or  culture,  dis- 
cipline or  practical  knowledge,  vocational  or  general,  these  are 
not  the  alternatives  of  an  "absolute  either  or".  They  are  questions 
of  time,  place,  person,  measure,  and  degree,  matters  for  compromise 
and  adjustment.  And  nothing  but  the  number  of  excellent  persons 
who  persist  in  the  practice  hinders  me  from  saying  that  anyone  who 
discourses  about  "education"  in  general  without  immediately  going 
on  to  limit,  distinguish,  qualify,  and  specify  some  particular  type 
of  education  is  a  charlatan.  Such  distinctions  may  check  the  flow 
of  eloquence  but  they  are  indispensable  to  any  clarity  of  thought 
or  definiteness  of  conclusion.  We  have  little  more  to  learn  either 


230  Indiana  University 

from  impressive  recitals  of  the  achievements  of  modern  science  or 
enthusiastic  surveys  of  the  glories  of  Greek  literature.  The  con- 
troversies of  twenty,  thirty,  or  forty  years  ago  have  no  relevance  to 
the  present  situation.  There  is  now  no  possibility  of  the  predom- 
inance of  humanistic  studies.  The  question  is  of  their  survival. 
How  did  they  come  to  gain  their  precarious  foothold  in  our  practical 
state  universities,  and  having  thus  far  connived  at  their  develop- 
ment, shall  we  henceforth  suppress  them  as  an  alien  and  parasitic 
growth? 

An  eminent  European  philosopher  once  formulated  what  he 
called  the  law  of  the  heterogony  of  ends.  It  means  that  you  may 
aim  at  a  low  mark  and  your  arrow  may  take  a  higher  flight.  I  do 
not  much  care  for  the  pseudo-scientific  terminology  or  the  preten- 
tious designation  "law".  But  it  expresses  a  fact  of  human  exper- 
ience. We  do  sometimes  build  better  than  we  know.  Saul,  the  son 
of  Kish,  goes  forth  to  seek  his  father's  asses  and  finds  a  Kingdom. 
A  state  legislature  decrees  an  agricultural  college  and  gets  a 
university.  Besides  the  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends,  there  is  a 
reason  in  human  nature  for  this.  The  soul  of  man  is  at  least 
potentially  a  fire,  as  many  philosophical  and  eloquent  persons  have 
told  us  from  Heraclitus  and  Cicero  to  Voltaire,  Sydney  Smith,  and 
Roosevelt.  You  cannot  kindle  the  fire  and  set  limits  to  the  flame. 
You  cannot  bring  together  a  large  body  of  aspiring  students  and 
prescribe  to  them  the  rigid  bounds  of  their  intellectual  curiosity. 
If  you  do  you  will  chill  the  ardors  that  even  the  narrow  tasks  you 
set  them  presuppose.  Every  academy,  technical  school,  and  insti- 
tution of  higher  learning  tends  by  the  very  law  of  its  being  to  become 
a  university  in  the  universally  imputed,  if  not  the  etymological  or 
legal  sense  of  the  word.  The  mediaeval  university  set  up  the  limits 
of  Aristotelian  doctrine  and  the  crystalline  spheres  of  the  Aristotelian 
heaven.  But  the  new  science  and  the  new  astronomy  swept  the 
barriers  away.  And  the  poet  sang: 

Past  the  wall  unsurmounted  that  bars  out  our  vision  with  iron  and  fire 
Man  hath  sent  forth  his  soul  for  the  stars  to  comply  with  and  suns  to  conspire. 

And  if  the  new  dogmatisms  of  science,  or  the  new  scholasticisms 
of  pseudo-science,  should  seek  to  suppress  what  they  deem  the  idle 
and  unpractical  curiosities  of  the  scholar  and  the  dilettante  they 
would  in  their  turn  provoke  a  no  less  victorious  revolt  of  the  human 
spirit. 

Two  of  the  colleagues  who  used  to  debate  against  me  on  the 
Greek  and  Latin  question  in  the  faculty  of  the  University  of  Chicago 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  231 

have  become  presidents  of  state  universities.  Both  have  written  to 
me  to  say  that  they  were  distressed  by  the  decline  of  the  Greek 
departments  in  their  institutions  and  to  ask  me  to  recommend  a 
young  man  competent  to  build  them  up.  The  Germans  established 
at  Hamburg  a  strictly  practical  colonial  institute  for  the  study  of 
geography,  trade,  and  a  colloquial  knowledge  of  Oriental  languages. 
It  is  now  a  complete  university.  The  French  organized  not  univer- 
sities but  what  they  called  partial  faculties  in  various  provincial 
centers.  They  are  now  universities.  An  engineering  school  finds 
that  its  pupils  cannot  write  English.  It  imports  an  eminent  pro- 
fessor of  English,  but  he  cannot  and  will  not  teach  English  composi- 
tion apart  from  English  literature.  And  the  teaching  of  English 
literature  opens  vistas  of  the  entire  history  of  European  culture 
and  imperatively  calls  for  at  least  a  preparatory  training  in  Latin. 
The  professors  of  a  scientific  school  try  to  humanize  and  broaden  its 
curriculum  by  studying  the  history  of  science.  But  you  cannot 
divorce  the  history  of  science  from  the  history  of  philosophy,  and 
before  they  know  it  they  find  themselves  trying  to  make  out  the 
^meaning  of  Aristotle,  and  delivering  lectures  on  the  pre-Socratics. 
The  more  intelligent  students  and  professors  of  a  purely  professional 
school  of  law  become  interested  in  the  history  and  origins  of  our 
system  of  law.  They  set  themselves  to  construing  mediaeval  Latin 
documents  and  the  Latin  of  Gaius  and  Justinian,  and  if  not  con- 
tent with  primers  they  try  to  read  the  best  books,  as  the  treatises 
of  Sir  Henry  Maine,  or  Carlyle's  History  of  Mediaeval  Political  Theory, 
they  find  themselves  discussing  the  early  history  of  Christianity 
and  the  influence  of  Greek  philosophy  on  Roman  law. 

This  kind  of  infection  spreads  to  the  least  likely  quarters. 
I  met  a  hulking  athlete  at  a  university  reception  the  other  day  and 
in  the  endeavor  to  make  conversation  asked  him  what  he  was  study- 
ing this  term.  Household  economics  was  the  reply.  And  what 
particular  branch  are  you  pursuing  just  now?  I  am  writing  a  paper 
on  the  household  economics  of  the  Greeks.  It  was  for  this  that  he 
had  forfeited  the  opportunity  of  knowing  in  the  original  the  wan- 
derings of  Odysseus  in  the  first  and  fairest  of  fairylands,  Socrates' 
speech  to  his  judges  and  Antigone  weeping  for  her  virginity,  and 
Alcestis'  farewell  to  her  bridal  bed.  So  schools  of  education  whose 
classroom  exercises  consist  largely  of  tirades  against  the  study  of 
Latin,  and  demonstrations  that  the  translation  will  serve  as  well  as 
the  original,  set  their  graduate  students  to  writing  quaintly  amateur- 
ish dissertations  on  Greek  education  or  the  history  of  Ciceronianism. 
They  are  like  the  native  who  met  me  at  the  foot  of  a  mountain  which 


232  Indiana  University 

I  was  about  to  climb  in  Estes  Park.  I  asked  him  if  he  had  ever 
been  up  to  the  top.  "No",  he  said,  "but  I  have  seen  it  in  the  movies 
at  Denver." 

The  purely  agricultural  college  sometimes  displays  in  its  pro- 
gram a  monstrous  disproportion  of  courses  on  the  philosophy  and 
history  of  agriculture.  That  is  of  course,  in  part,  the  line  of  least 
resistance.  It  is  easier  than  cultivating  corn  in  the  July  fields. 
But  it  also  illustrates  that  of  which  we  are  speaking — the  spreading 
of  interests,  the  demand  for  something  other  and  more  than  the 
immediately  practical,  the  unquenchable  fire  of  intellectual  and 
ideal  curiosity  in  the  soul  of  man.  It  is  these  instincts  that  have 
transformed  so  many  agricultural  and  engineering  colleges  into 
universities,  have  organized  within  these  at  first  predominantly 
practical  universities  historical,  literary,  linguistic,  humanistic 
departments,  which,  beginning  timidly  with  the  training  of  a  few  mas- 
ters of  arts,  have  developed,  in  rivalry  with  the  older  universities, 
minutely  specialized  graduate  instruction  in  the  humanities  with 
publication  of  monographs  on  the  dative  case  and  dissertations  on 
the  iota-subscript.  So  that  now  side  by  side  with  papers  on  bridge 
building  or  the  care  of  milk,  the  Universities  of  Wisconsin,  Michigan, 
and  California  publish  monographs  on  Solon  and  the  use  of  the 
adjective  as  a  substantive  in  the  De  rerum  natura  of  Lucretius.  This 
spontaneous  development  of  philological  research  in  the  state 
universities  has  not  gone  unopposed.  Some  politicians  have  fought 
these  studies  in  the  name  of  democracy  and  the  practical  needs  of 
the  people  and  some  men  of  science  misled  by  obsolete  battle  cries 
still  regard  them  with  distrust.  There  has  doubtless  been  some 
pedantry,  waste,  and  futility  in  this  specialized  productivity.  In 
what  field  of  research  do  we  escape  the  wasteful  methods  of  nature 
that  scatters  a  thousand  germs  for  one  that  comes  to  fruition? 

The  opponents  of  humanistic  studies  by  which  I,  of  course, 
mean  more  than  Latin  and  Greek,  plume  themselves  on  their 
modernity.  But  their  controversial  methods  are  at  least  thirty 
years  behind  the  actual  situation.  In  view  of  the  statistics  and  the 
preponderance  of  newspaper  and  student  opinion,  the  conventional 
denunciation  of  Greek  and  Latin  as  obstacles  to  the  pursuit  of 
practical  and  modern  studies  is  ludicrous  or  insincere.  For  the  now 
meaningless  antithesis  of  classics  and  science,  of  culture  and  prac- 
tice, we  must  substitute  a  classification  more  nearly  in  accord  with 
actual  conditions.  We  may  distinguish  three  or  four  groups  of 
studies  for  this  purpose.  There  are  as  the  first  two  groups  the  pure 
physical  sciences  and  their  practical  applications.  There  is  then  that 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  233 

method  of  study  of  mind  and  the  products  of  mind  which  endeavors 
to  treat  them  as  the  matter  of  sciences  analogous  to  the  physical 
sciences;  and  there  is  finally  the  cultural,  humanistic,  and  critical 
study  of  mind  and  its  products.  For  convenience  of  designation  we 
will  call  the  one  the  unnatural  sciences  or  the  pseudo-sciences,  and 
the  other  humanistic  studies,  the  German  geistige  Wissenschaften.  I 
shall  try  later  to  justify  my  use  of  the  term  "pseudo-sciences",  but 
meanwhile  you  may  take  its  disparaging  implications  as  a  mere 
expression  of  my  prejudices.  At  any  rate  the  humanist's  first  plea 
is  that  the  representatives  of  the  real  sciences  will  take  note  of 
this  distinction  whether  they  accept  it  in  its  entirety  or  not.  No 
reasonable  humanist  denies  today  that  our  entire  civilization  rests 
on  the  real  sciences  and  their  industrial  applications,  or  challenges 
the  prior  lien  of  these  studies  on  all  educational  subsidies  that  their 
effective  development  requires.  When  the  apologists  of  our 
cause  repeat  as  they  all  must  and  as  Mrs.  Humphrey  Ward  did  only 
the  other  day  the  truism  that  man  cannot  live  by  bread  alone, 
they  are  not  disparaging  the  real  sciences  or  sneering  at  those  prac- 
tical applications  of  science  that  have  given  man  dominion  over 
nature  if  not  over  himself.  We  are  pointing  to  the  plain  fact  that 
in  every  university  many  students  have  not  the  qualities  of  mind 
required  for  the  successful  investigation  of  physical  problems,  and 
many  more  will  not  be  satisfied  to  study  nothing  but  science.  They 
have  other  spiritual  needs,  other  intellectual  curiosities;  and  in 
respect  of  such  students  the  question  today  is  not  the  simple  alter- 
native science  or  classics,  it  is  shall  they  meet  these  imperative 
needs  partly  by  the  preparatory,  the  humanistic,  the  critical  study, 
or  exclusively  by  the  premature  and  pseudo-scientific  study  of  the 
human  mind,  its  history,  and  its  products. 

In  spite  of  the  overwhelming  victory  of  science  all  along  the  line, 
scientific  men  still  complain  that  pure  science  is  not  adequately 
honored  and  encouraged  in  America  and  that  they  need  more  and 
better  students  to  recruit  the  ranks  of  research.  This  may  be  true, 
but  it  is  not  true  that  the  monopoly  of  promising  talent  by  human- 
istic studies  is  in  any  appreciable  degree  responsible  for  the  de- 
ficiency. It  is  from  the  swollen  classes  of  the  pseudo-sciences  and 
the  dilettante  fringe  of  the  literary  courses  that  they  must  recruit 
their  numbers.  And  when  they  have  enrolled  these  recruits,  if  they 
find  a  large  proportion  of  them  too  woolly-minded,  too  recalcitrant 
to  severe  logical  thinking,  too  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  precise 
language  to  profit  by  serious  scientific  teaching,  they  will  perhaps 
have  some  inkling  of  the  meaning  of  our  contention  that  in  spite 


234  Indiana  University 

of  the  misleading  usurpation  of  the  prestige  of  the  name  science,  the 
discipline  of  the  pseudo-sciences  is  an  inferior  preparation  for 
genuine  scientific  work  to  that  which  we  offer. 

Before  proceeding  further  I  must  redeem  my  pledge  to  justify 
the  term  "pseudo-science".  Outside  of  mathematics,  chemistry,  and 
physics  our  terminology  can  never  be  quite  colorless.  A  scrupulous 
debater  will  use  a  word  of  derogatory  suggestions  only  when  he 
sincerely  believes  that  popular  opinion  inclines  so  far  in  the  opposite 
direction  that  his  otherwise  question-begging  designation  operates 
solely  as  a  needed  and  justifiable  rectification.  A  few  years  ago, 
for  example,  I  would  not  have  employed  the  word  "radical"  as  a 
merely  denunciatory  epithet.  The  writers  whom  I  would  so  desig- 
nate have  themselves  to  thank  for  the  growing  popular  misuse  of 
the  word.  They  themselves  intentionally  substituted  the  poisonous 
revolutionary  cant  term  "reactionary"  for  the  comparatively  color- 
less conservative  They  are  merely  "hoist  with  their  own  petard" 
now  that  the  rough  and  ready  language  of  the  people  discards  liberal 
for  radical  and  interprets  radical  as  revolutionary.  For  practical 
purposes,  in  the  present  line-up  to  save  America  the  instinct  of  the 
people  is  right.  And  we  need  have  no  scruples  in  adopting  their 
use  of  language  in  this  respect. 

The  justification  of  the  term  "pseudo-science"  is  still  clearer. 
Originally  it  may  have  been  used  to  characterize  the  irresponsibility 
of  certain  exploitations  and  popularizations  of  the  real  sciences. 
It  was  the  Champagne  science  mousseuse  satirized  by  O.  W. 
Holmes  of  which  every  newspaper  and  some  sessions  of  the  American 
Academy  of  Science  offer  specimens.  Huxley  incorporates  the  word 
in  the  title  of  two  essays.  But  he  uses  it  mainly  of  the  amateur 
science  displayed  by  the  Duke  of  Argyle  and  British  bishops  in  their 
attacks  on  the  science  of  Darwin  and  Tyndall  and  Huxley  himself. 
If  Huxley  were  now  living  he  would  be  the  first  to  recognize  that 
times  have  changed  and  that  the  foolish  of  today  tafke  the  name  of 
science  in  vain  not  to  assail  the  real  sciences  but  to  support  their  own 
social  and  economic  and  political  opinions  by  remote  and  imper- 
tinent scientific  analogies,  as  when  a  silly  clergyman  exhibits  the 
skeleton  of  an  extinct  armored  dinosaur  as  an  argument  against 
preparedness,  or  a  militant  feminist  argues  that  husbands  among 
rotifers  are  pigmies  attached  to  the  female  and  parasitic  upon  it, 
or  a  behaviorist  solemnly  pretends  that  it  matters  two  straws  to  real 
human  psychology  whether  "the  avoiding  reaction  in  paramecium" 
is  to  be  interpreted  as  tropistic  or  a  case  of  trial  and  error.  In  any 
case  it  is  not  with  reference  to  abuses  within  the  real  sciences  that 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  235 

I  wish  to  use  the  term  "pseudo-science  J.  Men  of  science,  it  is  true, 
tell  me  that  the  most  exact  sciences  do  have  their  lunatic  fringe. 
But  I  do  not  believe  that  this  kind  of  pseudo-science  can  do  much 
harm.    I  presume  that  the  scientific  men  themselves  will  explode  it. 
And  tho  I  can  sometimes  divine  its  presence,  my  ignorance  makes  it 
unsafe  to  pronounce  the  judgment  that  some  acquaintance  with 
their  subject-matter  makes  me  willing  to  hazard  in  the  pseudo- 
sciences  proper.    When  the  academy  of  sciences  debates  the  ques- 
tion of  other  worlds  than  ours  and  the  infinity  of  the  universe,  I  may 
have  an  uneasy  surmise  that  they  really  know  nothing  about  it, 
and  that  they  are  giving  their  minds  a  holiday  in  cosmogonical 
metaphysics  and  poetry.    But  I  am  silenced  by  the  possibility  that 
there  may  be  a  definite  mathematical  meaning  underlying  language 
which  my  ignorance  cannot  distinguish  from  the  rhetoric  of  Plato's 
Timaeus,  Poe's  "Eureka",  and  Bergson's  Creative  Evolution.   When 
an  eminent  physiologist  tells  me  that  it  is  the  presence  of  "creatin" 
that  gives  distinctive  taste  and  odor  to  roast  beef,  I  translate  his 
queer  Greek,  "the  presence  of  meatiness  makes  roast  beef  meaty", 
and  am  tempted  to  ask  what  is  the  difference  between  this  and  the 
formula  of  the  Platonic  Phaedo  that  the  presence  of  heat  makes 
things  hot.    But  I  am  dimly  aware  that,  however  odd  his  language, 
the  physiological  chemist  may  attach  a  definite  and  verifiable 
meaning  to  creatin  in  terms  of  CHN  and  O.    If  Professor  Wilamo- 
witz  of  Berlin  reconstructs  an  entire  lost  epic  of  Hesiod  out  of  three 
fragments  in  the  scholia  of  Pindar,  I  know  precisely  what  to  think 
of  the  performance  and  am  not  afraid  to  say  it.    But  when  science 
presents  me  with  two  photographs  of  the  bust  of  Haeckel's  missing 
link  or  pithecanthropes  reconstructed  by  M.  Eugene  DeBois  from  a 
remarkable  tooth,  a  skull  cap,  and  a  piece  of  thigh  bone  found 
sixty  feet  away  «n  the  island  of  Java,  my  ignorance  again  ties  my 
tongue.     I  open  my  mouth  and  shut  my  eyes,  and  am  willing  to 
believe  that  investigators  of  the  physical  sciences  never  pyramid 
their  hypotheses,  or  are  tempted  to  startle  the  world  with  pre- 
mature announcements  of  unverifiable  discoveries — or,  at  any  rate, 
that  if  they  do  their  colleagues  will  take  care  of  them  in  time. 

But  what  I  unrepentingly  call  the  "pseudo-sciences"  cannot 
overawe  and  silence  me  in  that  way.  For  the  material  of  the  pseudo- 
sciences  is  that  of  the  conjectural  philology  of  Berlin,  and  of  my  own 
less  ambitious  and  less  systematic  studies.  It  is  the  human  mind, 
its  products,  and  its  history,  of  which  language  and  literature  are 
the  chief  records  and  documents,  and  here  the  experience,  the  tact, 
the  common  sense,  the  trained  critical  instinct,  of  the  humanist 
claim  their  rights, 


236  Indiana  University 

It  is  not  necessary  that  you  should  go  all  the  way  with  me  in 
order  to  allow  some  force  to  this  argument.  You  may  believe  that 
pseudo-science  is  an  unfair  and  question-begging  term.  You  may 
hold  that  the  studies  thus  designated  contain  the  promise  and 
the  germs  of  real  future  sciences  and  that  those  who  prophesy  their 
failure  are  merely  repeating  the  error  of  the  mediaeval,  the  Renais- 
sance, the  nineteeth-century  opponents  of  Roger  Bacon,  Galileo, 
and  Darwin.  You  may  argue,  as  their  advocates  do,  that  laboratory 
psychology,  pedagogical  psychology,  sociology,  the  science  of  educa- 
tion, the  sciences  of  anthropology  and  of  prehistoric  human  origins 
are  still  admittedly  in  the  tentative  stage,  and  that  it  is  unfair  to 
challenge  them  to  produce  results  comparable  to  those  of  the 
established  physical  sciences.  All  this  could  be  conceded  without 
affecting  the  humanist's  main  contention.  The  justification  of 
the  term  "pseudo-sciences' '  is  that  the  present  disproportion  between 
pretensions  and  performance  in  these  subjects  exceeds  the  measure 
allowed  to  human  fallibility.  Humanists  may  err  in  excess  of  scepti- 
cism. They  do  not  dogmatically  and  prophetically  deny  the  future 
possibilities  of  the  pseudo-sciences.  But  the  representatives  of 
these  subjects  do  attempt  to  discount  their  own  prophecies  in  the 
cash  of  present  control  of  all  educational  policies  and  the  substitu- 
tion of  their  methods  of  study  of  the  human  mind  and  its  products 
for  the  methods  of  a  critical  humanism.  Any  illustrations  of  this 
that  I  may  quote  are  merely  typical.  Professor  King  fo;  example 
writes  in  his  Development  of  Religion:  "The  scientist  is  perfectly 
safe  in  assuming  that  his  realm  may  finally  be  extended  so  as  to 
include  everything.  For  there  could  be  no  science  on  any  other 
assumption."  A  similar  spirit  of  confident  prophecy,  as  you  re- 
member, inspired  an  act  to  establish  the  catholepistemiad  or 
University  of  Michigania,  which  in  anticipation  of  the  limitation  of 
university  presidencies  to  professors  of  education  prescribes  that 
there  shall  be  "a  didaxia  or  piofessorship  of  catholepistemia  the 
didactor  of  which  shall  be  president  of  the  institution".  In  1916 
Professor  Munsterberg  wrote:  "You  turn  to  me  because  one  whose 
life  work  is  psychology  may  best  foresee  the  days  that  are  to  come." 
It  may  be  argued  that  these  are  not  fair  or  representative  examples, 
but  I  could  quote  scores  ir  the  same  style  and  to  the  same  purport 
It  is  only  under  the  immediate  fire  of  humanist  criticism  that 
they  fall  back  on  the  modest  evasion  that  they  are  merely  experi- 
menting in  the  direction  of  a  possible  future  science.  Effectiveness 
of  assertion,  says  Mr.  Bernard  Shaw,  is  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of 
style;  and  the  pseudo-sciences  have  been  successful  in  capturing 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  237 

public  opinion.  How  else  explain  the  infatuation  of  a  man  of  the 
caliber  of  Henry  Adams  who  in  his  own  pseudo-scientific  essay, 
"The  Rule  of  Phase  Applied  to  History",  writes  and  is  taken  serious- 
ly by  the  public  when  he  writes,  "Thus  results  the  plain  assurance 
that  the  future  of  thought  and  therefore  of  history  lies  in  the  hands 
of  the  physicist,  and  that  the  future  historian  must  seek  his  educa- 
tion in  the  world  of  mathematical  physics."  Mr.  Adams  must  have 
known  that  a  training  in  mathematical  physics  does  not  fit  a  man  to 
interpret  historical  documents  or  write  readably  about  them. 
But  to  obtain  a  hearing  today  one  must  advertise  himself  as  the 
discoverer  of  a  mare's  nest.  The  popular  reviewer  accepts  literally 
the  paradox  of  Professor  James  that  mere  sanity  is  the  cheapest 
and  least  significant  of  the  mental  qualities.  And  the  modernist 
critic  habitually  sneers  at  one  of  the  best  informed  and  most  instruc- 
tive of  recent  French  writers,  Emile  Faguet,  because  "he  has  left  no 
theory  by  which  we  may  perpetuate  his  name";  and  at  America's 
foremost  man  of  letters,  Lowell,  because  "he  had  a  weakness  for 
stopping  short  of  the  ultima*  e." 

Those  then  who  are  repelled  by  the  negative  and  obstructive 
attitude  of  the  humanist  towards  these  tendencies  of  modern 
thought  may  receive  his  criticism  merely  as  a  check  on  their  excesses, 
and  a  warning  against  their  aberrations.  That  I  think  is  the  attitude 
of  some  of  my  friends  who  profess  these  new  sciences.  They  feel 
that  they  can  afford  to  smile  good  naturedly  at  our  railings  while 
profiting  by  the  detail  of  our  criticism,  because  after  all  they  have 
the  ear  of  the  public  and  we  are  impotent  to  shake  their  control. 
To  take  one  typical  example,  there  can  be  no  question  that  the 
better  informed  psychologists  have  in  late  years  hedged  on  the 
question  of  the  existence  of  disciplinary  studies  under  the  pres- 
sure of  humanistic  criticism,  tho  they  may  cover  this  retreat  by 
reports  of  new  series  of  experiments.  President  Stanley  Hall  and 
some  of  his  pupils  still  assure  the  public  that  "science  has  pro- 
nounced" that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  mental  discipline.  But  the 
prudent  majority  are  more  cautious. 

I  need  not  then,  and  obviously  cannot  here  consider  how  far 
the  pseudo-sciences  are  literally  what  the  term  implies,  and  so 
deserve  to  rank  with  astrology  or  psychical  research  or  Freudism. 
I  have  touched  on  the  subject  elsewhere  and  shall  sometime  take 
it  up  in  detail.  Such  a  discussion  would  begin  with  a  challenge 
to  name  specific  results  not  as  well  obtainable  by  other  methods. 
That  challenge  has  never  been  met,  except  recently  by  the  claim 
that  the  psychologist's  tests  of  intelligence  proved  of  immense 


238  Indiana  University 

practical  value  in  the  rapid  organization  of  the  United  States  army. 
I  mention  this  claim  not  to  examine  it  here  but  merely  in  order  not 
to  seem  to  overlook  the  main,  if  not  the  only,  argument  in  rebuttal 
of  the  humanist's  scepticism.  To  test  the  claim  would  involve  a 
discussion  of  the  line  of  demarcation  between  psychology  and 
physiology,  an  examination  of  the  enormous  mass  of  uncritical 
evidence,  and  experiments  on  a  large  scale  as  to  the  ability  of  edu- 
cated men  who  are  not  professional  psychologists  to  sift  a  mass  of 
raw  recruits  by  a  roughly  sufficient  classification  of  their  degree  of 
intelligence.  That  is  impossible  and  unnecessary  here.  For  I  am 
not  advocating  the  suppression  of  the  pseudo-sciences,  or  prophesy- 
ing that  nothing  will  ever  come  from  all  the  enormous  labor  now 
apparently  wasted  on  them.  We  are  merely  pleading  for  the  sur- 
vival of  critical  humanism,  both  as  a  check  upon  them  and  as  an 
indispensable  element  in  the  complete  self-realization  of  the  human 
spirit.  We  only  ask  you  to  consider  what  kind  of  world,  what 
culture,  what  sort  of  university  faculties,  what  histories,  what 
literature  would  result  from  an  unrestricted  domination  of  the 
pseudo-sciences,  and  the  entire  suppression  of  humanists  and  all 
the  things  of  which  they  are  the  imperfect  representatives? 

The  radical  labor  leader,  Mr.  Foster,  testifying  before  the 
Senate  committee,  said,  "I  take  the  position  that  Lester  F.  Ward 
takes."  "Who  is  Lester  F.  Ward?"  said  Senator  Sterling,  and  the 
New  Republic  waxes  eloquent  over  the  ignorance  that  knew  nothing 
of  "our  most  distinguished  philosopher".  Unlike  the  Senator,  I 
have  read  Lester  F.  Ward.  I  reserve  for  another  time  the  examina- 
tion of  the  claim  that  he  is  our  most  distinguished  philosopher. 
But  here  is  the  substance  of  a  sentence  from  his  Glimpses  of  the 
Cosmos:  "What  ....  strikes  me  is  that  in  every  case  of  a 
claim  to  the  discovery  of  new  truth  that  I  have  thus  far  met  with 
.  .  .  .  it  is  one  or  some  small  part  of  one  that  I  have  not  only 
stated  earlier,  but  fully  set  forth,  carefully  analyzed,  and  connected 
with  other  related  truths."  To  put  the  issue  concretely,  is  this  the 
temper  and  attitude  of  mind  that  we  wish  to  see  flourish  in  our 
universities  uncontrolled  by  the  criticism  of  a  different  tradition? 
Do  we  wish  the  next  generation  of  our  college  faculties  apart  from  the 
strictly  physical  sciences  to  consist  wholly  of  emulators  and  dis- 
ciples of  the  Lester  F.  Wards,  the  Stanley  Halls,  the  Thorndikes,  the 
Veblens,  the  Miinsterbergs,  the  Pattens,  the  Scott  Nearings?  of 
young  men  who  think  their  thoughts,  share  their  tastes,  reason  with 
their  logic  and  in  their  categories,  and  express  themselves  in  their 
diction?  Shall  there  be  no  qualifications  of  the  academic  atmosphere 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  239 

and  the  ideals  that  such  men  would  establish  by  the  witnessing  or 
protesting  presence  of  a  few  teachers  and  students  who  may  or  may 
not  have  heard  of  Lester  F.  Ward,  but  who  have  heard  of  Lowell  and 
Gildersleeve?  Would  you  prefer  an  England  wholly  dominated  by 
the  mind  and  temper  of  the  Herbert  Spencers,  the  Buckles,  the 
Bains,  the  Cliffords,  the  Professor  Graham  Wallases,  unrelieved  by 
any  survival  of  the  spirit  of  Arnold,  Tennyson,  Froude,  Jebb, 
Jowett,  Mackail,  and  Murray?  Would  your  preserve  the  France  of 
Taine,  Tarde,  LeBon,  Binet,  Calparede  and  abolish  or  forget  the 
France  of  St.  Beuve,  Cousin,  Renan,  Gaston  Boissier,  Croiset,  and 
Faguet?  Are  you  interested  only  in  the  Germany  of  Buechner, 
Haeckel,  Ostwald,  Freud,  and  do  you  care  nothing  for  the  Germany 
of  Curtius,  Mommsen,  and  Wilamowitz?  That  is  quite  literally  the 
issue  and  the  choice  presented  to  the  American  university  of  the 
next  two  decades,  and  more  particularly  to  the  state  universities. 
To  transfer  this  issue  from  persons  to  things  and  books,  the  prac- 
tical abolition  of  critical  humanistic  scholarship  in  our  universities 
would  bring  about  a  rapid  deterioration  of  all  historical,  literary, 
and  linguistic  knowledge  and  teaching  thruout  the  nation.  And  in 
the  end  it  would  reduce  to  hopeless  confusion  and  insecurity  the 
very  materials  upon  which  the  pseudo-sciences  try  to  build.  It 
must  be  admitted  that  our  Germanized  philology  in  its  abuse  of 
hypothesis  sometimes  vies  with  the  crudest  pseudo-science  in  the 
diffusion  of  misinformation.  But  whatever  its  temporary  aberra- 
tions, humanism  never  abandons  the  principle  of  the  control  of 
its  facts  by  a  critical  mastery  of  the  original  sources.  Neither  the 
pseudo-scientists,  nor  alas!  the  scientists  outside  of  their  laboratories, 
seem  to  have  the  slightest  conception  of  what  this  involves.  They 
complacently  publish,  they  put  on  the  reference  shelves  of  their 
courses,  they  send  their  students  to  consult  books  that  are  confused 
compilations  from  secondary  and  tertiary  authorities,  who  cannot 
be  trusted  to  put  any  of  their  facts  correctly  and  in  the  right 
historical  perspective.  Lewes'  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy, 
Draper's  Intellectual  Development  of  Europe,  White's  Warfare  of 
Theology  and  Science,  Benn's  Greek  Philosophy,  and  the  historical 
parts  of  nearly  all  books  on  the  science  of  literary  origins,  the 
science  of  institutional  origins,  and  the  science  of  religion  might 
serve  as  illustrations.  A  voluminous  history  of  science  published 
by  Professor  Henry  Smith  in  1914  devotes  an  entire  volume  to  the 
history  of  ancient  science.  It  is  hopelessly  unscientific  and  uncritical. 
But  probably  neither  the  author  nor  the  majority  of  its  readeis 
has  any  notion  why  its  statements  are  so  untrustworthy  and  its 


240  Indiana  University 

methods  so  inadequate.  Instinctive  Tightness  of  perception  in 
such  matteis  is  as  impossible  without  long  discipline  in  the  inter- 
pretation of  original  texts  as  it  is  in  the  physical  sciences  without 
the  habit  of  the  laboratory.  The  university  that,  be  the  students 
few  or  many,  supports  its  humanistic  departments  both  for  under- 
graduate culture  and  for  the  intenser  graduate  study  that  in  this 
field  is  the  equivalent  of  research  is  preserving  from  atrophy  one  of 
the  essential  critical  organs  for  the  ascertainment  of  truth — that 
total  truth  to  the  pursuit  of  which  it  is  consecrated  by  its  very  name. 
What  makes  a  university  is  not  the  science  of  the  individual  pro- 
fessor, at  the  best  a  vanishing  quantity  in  the  face  of  the  infinite, 
but  the  potentialities  of  the  collectivity — the  fact  that  somewhere 
and  by  somebody  every  present  possibility  of  human  knowledge 
is  embodied  and  represented  in  its  highest  form,  the  fact  that  there 
is  someone  whom  you  can  consult  who  knows,  who  is  not  dependent 
on  the  encyclopaedia  or  the  latest  newspaper  report  of  European 
work.  Men  of  science  accept  and  respect  this  university  ideal  in 
other  fields.  When  they  have  freed  their  minds  from  the  preju- 
dices of  obsolete  controversies  they  will  appreciate  its  application 
in  this  case.  The  study  of  the  so-called  classical  humanities,  apart 
from  their  tried  and  tested  direct  disciplinary  cultural  and  forma- 
tive value  for  young  minds,  is  the  systematic  and  critical  investiga- 
tion of  fifteen  hundred  years  of  continuous  literature,  philosophy, 
and  civilization,  a  civilization  significant  in  itself  and  doubly  signi- 
ficant as  the  chief  original  tho  now  no  longer  the  chief  basis  of  our 
own.  When  once  they  have  rid  themselves  of  polemics  no  longer 
relevant  it  is  not  conceivable  that  thoughtful  men  of  science  should 
wish  so  vast  a  domain  of  knowledge  to  be  represented  in  the  Uni- 
versitas  Studiorum  only  by  dilettante,  amateurish,  and  secondary 
methods  of  study,  or  by  the  structures  of  hypothesis  that  the  pseudo- 
sciences  erect  with  material  uncritically  compiled  from  translations 
and  handbooks. 

Do  I  need  to  answer  the  naive  suggestion  that  is  sometimes 
put  forth  that  provision  should  be  made  for  a  definitive  translation 
of  all  the  classics  and  for  authoritative  textbooks  in  antiquities  and 
the  history  of  ancient  thought,  and  that  when  this  is  done  one 
custodian  of  such  a  library  in  every  university  would  amply  suffice 
for  all  the  requirements  of  culture  and  science?  There  can  of  course 
be  no  definitive  translation  or  textbook.  In  the  past  eighty  years 
the  new  material  and  the  progress  of  classical  studies  have  been  only 
less  marvelous  than  those  of  the  physical  sciences.  But  even  if 
the  time  should  come  when  no  further  accession  of  material  could  be 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  241 

looked  for  and  all  the  accounts  were  closed  the  interpretation  of 
fifteen  hundred  years  of  the  life  of  humanity,  and  its  shifting  applica- 
tions to  our  own  ever-changing  life  and  thought  could  never  cease 
to  be  a  living  and  growing  thing.  And  if  it  could  be  confined  in  a 
definite  system  and  a  final  canon,  the  custodian  of  such  a  dead 
corpus  of  knowledge  would  die  to  living  science  himself  and  cease 
to  be  capable  of  interpreting  or  imparting  it. 

In  spite  of  Carlyle,  a  university  will  always  be  something  more 
than  a  collection  of  books.  The  highest  thought,  as  the  Aristotelian 
metaphysics  teaches,  is  identical  with  its  object,  and  exists  only  as 
realized  in  the  "active  intellect".  The  book  without  the  illuminating 
mind  is,  as  Plato  says,  an  inert  and  unresponsive  thing.  It  cannot 
convey  real  knowledge.  That  lives  in  the  communion  of  master  and 
disciple,  and  in  the  tradition  of  true  teaching.  The  writing  of 
textbooks,  he  says,  is  a  form  of  play,  an  entertainment  of  leisure,  a 
memorandum  against  oblivion  and  forgetfulness.  Intellectual 
seriousness  begins  when  the  teacher,  finding  a  fit  soul,  in  the  inter- 
change of  active  discussion  sows  and  implants  thoughts  wedded  to  a 
true  science,  capable  of  defending  themselves  and  their  author,  not 
sterile,  but  bearing  within  them  the  seed  that  in  the  continuance 
of  a  living  tradition  shall  make  our  knowledge  and  the  transmission 
of  knowledge  to  our  successors  immortal. 

Something  will  be  lacking,  this  is  our  final  plea,  something 
will  be  lacking  to  the  university  which  comes  short  of  this  Platonic 
ideal  in  any  considerable  department  of  human  knowledge.  And 
most  assuredly  to  the  university  in  which  the  originality,  the  beauty, 
the  rationality,  the  wealth  of  thought  and  suggestion,  the  lessons  of 
moral  and  political  experience,  the  enormous  material  for  modern 
comparisons  and  analogies,  the  incomparable  human  and  humanizing 
interest  of  the  civilizations  of  Greece  and  Rome  survive  only  in  the 
dusty  tomes  of  the  library  and  fail  of  due  spiritual  reincarnation 
in  fitting  souls. 


THE  OBLIGATION  OF  THE  STATE 
TOWARD  SCIENTIFIC  RESEARCH 


James  Rowland  Angell  was  born  in  Burlington,  Vermont,  May  8,  1869.  He 
was  educated  at  the  University  of  Michigan  where  he  received  the  bachelor's 
degree  in  1890,  and  the  master's  in  1891,  at  Harvard  (A.M.,  1892),  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Berlin,  the  University  of  Halle,  and  at  Vienna,  Paris,  and  Leipzig.  The 
University  of  Vermont  conferred  the  Litt.  D.  degree  on  him  in  1915.  He  became 
instructor  in  philosophy  at  the  University  of  Minnesota  in  1893;  assistant  pro- 
fessor of  psychology  and  director  of  the  psychological  laboratory  at  the  University 
of  Chicago,  1894-1901;  associate  professor,  1901-5;  professor  and  head  of  the 
department,  from  1905;  senior  dean,  from  1908;  dean  of  the  University  faculties, 
from  1911;  acting  president,  1918-19.  In  1921  he  was  elected  president  of 
Yale  University.  He  was  formerly  president  of  the  University  of  Chicago 
Settlement ;  a  member  and  president  of  the  American  Psychological  Association ; 
member  of  the  committee  of  the  adjutant-general's  office  on  classification  of 
personnel  in  the  army;  of  the  committee  of  the  War  Department  on  education 
and  special  training,  from  1918;  appointed  exchange  professor  at  the  Sor- 
bonne  in  1914;  is  a  member  of  Phi  Beta  Kappa,  Sigma  Xi,  and  the  National 
Academy  of  Sciences;  chairman  of  the  National  Research  Council,  1919-20; 
now  president  of  the  Carnegie  Corporation  of  New  York.  He  is  the  author  of 
Psychology,  Chapters  from  Modern  Psychology,  and  Introduction  to  Psychology. 


(243) 


THE  OBLIGATION  OF  THE  STATE  TO- 
WARD SCIENTIFIC  RESEARCH 

By  JAMES  ROWLAND  ANGELL 

ALL  DISCUSSIONS  regarding  the  state  and  its  obligations  are  in 
this  country  beset  with  the  difficulty  of  distinguishing  between  the 
federal  state  and  the  states  which  compose  it.  Far  be  it  from 
me  to  plunge  into  the  jungles  of  political  philosophy  and  constitu- 
tional law  which  open  up  before  one  who  attempts  to  elaborate  a 
philosophy  of  the  state  which  shall  do  justice  to  these  rivals  for 
consideration!  It  is  difficult  enough  for  our  courts  to  untangle  the 
purely  legislative  and  legal  complications  of  their  relations.  But  in 
the  present  instance,  I  am  thinking  of  the  forty-eight  great  common- 
wealths, among  which  Indiana  holds  so  honorable  a  place.  It  is 
their  opportunities  and  obligations  in  the  matter  of  research  which 
I  would  discuss. 

My  thesis,  which  is  perhaps  an  article  of  faith  rather  than 
a  demonstrable  proposition,  is  that  the  obligation  of  the  state  to 
promote  research  is  simply  one  phase  of  its  obligation  to  promote  the 
welfare  of  its  citizens,  and  to  some  incidental  commentary  upon  this 
thesis,  I  forthwith  proceed.  That  I  shall  bring  conviction  to  any  who 
dissent  from  the  doctrine  at  the  outset,  I  regard  as  altogether 
dubious.  I  conceive  my  function  as  primarily  that  of  formulating 
certain  of  the  grounds  upon  which  one  who  entertains  this  view  may 
be  justified  of  his  belief. 

Let  it  be  recognized  that  whatever  the  theoretical  justification, 
many  of  the  states,  and  conspicuously  Indiana,  have  already  in 
practice  committed  themselves  to  the  support  of  research.  It 
matters  not  what  motives  may  have  originally  prompted  the  decision 
to  embark  on  this  course.  The  fact  itself  is  the  significant  thing, 
and,  as  such,  it  has  created  a  precedent  in  no  way  likely  to  be  per- 
manently reversed.  The  real  issue,  I  take  it,  is  rather  as  to  the 
extent  to  which  research  shall  be  endowed  by  the  state,  and  the  par- 
ticular fields  of  investigation  which  may  be  held  to  justify  such 
investment  of  its  financial  resources. 

There  has,  for  example,  been  no  special  hesitation  to  establish 
stations  for  agricultural  research,  and  the  results  of  the  work  of 
many  of  these  stations  are  looked  upon  with  unqualified  pride, 

(245) 


246  Indiana  University 

and  have  undoubtedly  secured  substantial  advantages  to  the  com- 
munity. Unquestionably  in  these  instances  the  motive  has  been 
economic  gain,  and  the  support  so  willingly  given  by  legislatures  has 
been  procured  upon  the  assurance  of  such  economic  return.  Many 
of  these  stations  have  been  established  in  connection  with  the  agri- 
cultural colleges  of  the  states,  and  their  investigatory  work  has  often 
tended  to  fuse  with  the  purely  instructional  work  of  the  college. 
Indeed,  in  not  a  few  instances,  the  energies  of  these  institutions 
have  been  so  monopolized  by  the  obligations  to  teach  the  college 
students  and  the  surrounding  farming  community,  that  their  activ- 
ity as  agents  for  research  has  been  gravely  compromised.  This  fact 
must  not,  however,  for  a  moment  be  allowed  to  screen  the  more  sig- 
nificant fact  that  the  states  have  recognized  in  their  establishment 
the  legitimacy  of  financing  scientific  research  with  public  funds. 

While  I  believe  that  numerically  there  are  probably  more 
instances  of  the  financial  support  of  research  in  agriculture  and  the 
allied  sciences  than  in  any  other  single  group  of  scientific  interests, 
there  have  also  been  numerous  illustrations  of  a  similar  subsidy  of 
research  in  engineering  of  various  types,  and  of  investigations  of 
natural  resources,  such  as  minerals.  I  believe  there  are  also  a  few 
instances  of  the  subsidy  of  medical  research  in  the  field  of  public 
health.  In  any  event,  I  have  no  thought  of  attempting  a  complete 
census  of  these  varied  ranges  of  research  upon  which  one  or  more  of 
the  states  have  already  embarked,  but  simply  wish  to  call  somewhat 
vividly  to  your  attention  the  fact  that  a  considerable  group  of 
investigatory  interests  have  already  secured  state  support. 

It  will  appear  at  once  from  the  mere  rehearsal  of  this  list 
of  research  undertakings  that,  superficially  considered  at  least,  they 
all  represent  the  fields  of  applied  rather  than  of  pure  science,  and 
this  is  measurably  true,  altho  certain  of  them  inevitably  runout 
into  investigations  which  would  usually  be  classed  as  belonging  to 
pure  science.  This  is  the  fact,  for  example,  in  certain  of  the  botan- 
ical investigations  undertaken  in  connection  with  agricultural 
problems.  But  the  case  is  even  stronger  than  this,  inasmuch  as 
practically  all  the  states  which  have  state  universities  have  com- 
mitted themselves  to  research  in  pure  science,  including  the  social 
and  humanistic  sciences,  as  well  as  the  natural  sciences.  The  extent 
of  this  support  has  varied  very  widely  in  different  parts  of  the  coun- 
try and  at  different  times.  It  has  on  occasion  been  frank  and  open 
and  administered  with  wide  public  understanding  of  what  was 
being  done.  On  other  occasions  it  has  been  accomplished  quietly 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  247 

by  indirection,  and  almost  by  subterfuge,  and  with  no  attempt  to 
justify  it  in  any  general  way  to  the  supporting  public. 

Every  college  president  who  has  to  go  before  a  state  legislature 
for  funds  is  quite  familiar  with  the  difference  in  the  practical 
problems  which  confront  him  when  he  seeks  financial  support  for 
research  in  pure  science,  and  for  research  in  such  forms  of  applied 
science  as  may  presumably  be  of  commercial  or  industrial  signi- 
ficance in  the  state.  It  is  indeed  an  audacious  executive  who  would 
attempt  to  secure  from  such  a  legislature  funds  for  investigation 
in  the  ancient  languages  or  in  many  branches  of  historical  and  social 
science.  To  be  sure,  a  few  highly  intelligent  states  have  discovered 
that  a  competent  research  bureau  dealing  with  matters  of  political, 
social,  and  economic  science  can  render  enormous  aid  to  a  legislature 
in  its  attempt  to  devise  new  and  helpful  legislation  which  shall  im- 
prove upon  the  experience  of  other  communities,  and  even  other 
nations,  and  shall  escape  the  interdict  of  unconstitutionality  im- 
posed by  the  Supreme  Court.  But,  broadly  speaking,  it  is  only 
those  branches  of  natural  science  whose  relation  to  applied  science 
in  agriculture,  medicine,  and  the  industries  is  likely  to  be  fairly 
obvious  that  the  university  president  finds  his  task  at  all  simple  in 
securing  funds  for  the  prosecution  of  research.  He  is  in  practice 
most  apt,  if  he  does  anything  to  encourage  such  research,  to  accom- 
plish it  by  private  agreement  with  the  men  he  appoints  to  his  pro- 
fessorial positions,  ostensibly  as  teachers,  but  actually  with  the 
understanding  that  they  are  to  carry  on  such  investigational  enter- 
prises as  they  are  able. 

It  appears,  therefore,  at  once  that  while  the  principle  of  state 
support  for  scientific  investigation  has  already  been  conceded,  the 
practical  operation  of  it  leaves  very  much  to  be  desired,  and  this  is 
peculiarly  true  at  that  point  where  the  practical  bearing  of  the 
subject-matter  of  research  upon  the  interests  of  daily  life  becomes 
obscure  to  the  plain  man  and  the  common  citizen.  This  twilight 
zone  is  encountered  very  early  in  any  invasion  of  the  humanistic 
field. 

There  are  at  least  two  great  services  rendered  by  scientific 
research.  In  the  first  place,  it  represents  the  principle  of  life  and 
growth  in  science  itself.  It  may  be  compared  to  the  reproductive 
process  in  organic  life,  by  means  of  which  new  generations  of  thought 
and  discovery  are  brought  into  being,  and  the  future  enriched  with 
new  ideas  and  new  methods  for  promoting  the  welfare  of  humanity. 
Without  it,  science  and  knowledge  in  all  its  branches  is  not  only 
sterile,  but  ultimately  dies  and  decays.  Moreover,  nothing  is  more 


248  Indiana  University 

certain  than  that  without  incessant  research  in  pure  science,  no 
continued  discoveries  of  practical  value  can  accrue.  Altho  it  is 
perfectly  impossible  to  predict  from  what  direction  in  pure  science 
the  next  discovery  will  come  which  will  revolutionize  or  profoundly 
affect  the  affairs  of  daily  life,  nothing  is  more  certain  than  the  fact 
that  only  from  the  results  of  such  research  conducted  with  utter 
freedom  and  in  all  fields  of  endeavor  can  the  race  hope  to  progress 
in  its  mastery  of  nature.  The  nation  that  slights  pure  science  will 
assuredly  fall  behind  in  the  race  for  equality,  to  say  nothing  of 
supremacy. 

So  long  as  the  human  mind  continues  to  function,  there  need 
be  no  fear  that  research  will  ever  wholly  disappear,  for  it  may  fairly 
be  said  that  there  is  intrinsic  to  the  human  intelligence  an  essential 
instinct  for,  and  interest  in,  the  discovery  of  the  novel,  and  there 
are  abundant  influences  in  human  life  which  compel  intelligence  to 
exert  itself  in  the  mastery  of  new  fields.  On  the  other  hand,  how- 
ever, there  are  the  widest  possible  differences  in  the  results  to  be 
attained,  depending  upon  whether  in  the  one  case  research  is  fos- 
tered and  encouraged,  both  by  social  recognition  and  by  financial 
support,  or  whether,  in  the  other,  it  is  disregarded  and  allowed  to 
struggle  with  circumstances  wholly  unaided.  A  civilization  which 
recognizes  the  paramount  value  of  scientific  investigation,  and  which 
furnishes  to  it  resources  and  the  recognition  of  public  esteem,  is 
certain  to  outstrip  its  contemporaries  in  its  promotion  of  the 
breadth  and  depth  of  human  life. 

In  the  second  place,  there  is  as  a  universal  by-product  of  the 
prosecution  of  research  the  creation  of  an  atmosphere  of  intellectual 
alertness,  of  independence  of  judgment,  of  freshness  of  outlook, 
which  compared  with  intellectual  surroundings  where  knowledge  is 
regarded  as  complete,  finished,  done  once  and  for  all,  is  wholly 
unmistakable  and  of  the  utmost  value.  It  is  quite  possible  to 
demonstrate  by  actual  observation  the  correctness  of  this  verdict. 
Without  venturing  the  invidious  mention  of  names  and  places,  it 
may  still  be  said  with  absolute  confidence  that  there  are  certain 
educational  institutions,  for  example,  where  the  dogmatic  and 
intellectually  self-complacent  attitude  of  those  in  charge  bespeaks 
the  pedant  who  believes  himself  thoro  master  of  his  field,  and  for 
whom  that  field  contains  no  dark  corners,  no  unexplored  recesses. 
The  atmosphere  of  such  an  institution  is  not  only  intellectually 
smug  and  vain,  it  is  to  all  real  mental  development  mephitic,  a  place 
where  none  can  breathe  who  are  really  alive  intellectually.  Over 
against  such  an  atmosphere,  one  finds  other  institutions  in  which  the 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  249 

entire  attitude  is  one  of  open-minded  observation  of  the  truths  just 
ahead,  and  one  of  constant  critical  re-examination  of  the  supposed 
truths  with  which  we  are  now  provided.  Such  an  atmosphere  is 
tonic,  bracing,  and  inspiring,  intolerant  of  scholasticism!  and 
intellectual  dogmatism.  It  speaks  of  growth,  of  life,  and  of  progress, 
and  is  in  its  educational  effects  as  different  from  the  first  as  darkness 
from  light. 

But  we  must  come  back  to  the  underlying  question  of  the  signi- 
ficance of  research  in  pure  science,  and  of  research  in  the  humanistic 
branches  of  learning,  as  constituting  the  real  problem.  What  can  be 
said  by  way  of  justification,  and  by  way  of  convincing  appeal,  for 
the  intelligent  public  support  of  research  in  these  directions?  We 
must  qualify  our  enquiry  at  the  very  outset  by  recognizing  the 
necessity  for  a  certain  division  of  functions  among  the  various  re- 
search agencies  of  the  country,  and  we  must  also  be  prepared  to  offer 
reasonable  assurance  that  the  research  work  whose  promotion  we 
propose  shall  be  carried  ou t  by  thoroly  competent  persons,  and  that 
funds  devoted  to  such  purposes  shall  not  be  squandered  upon  the 
miscellaneous  endeavors  of  the  unfit. 

From  the  standpoint  of  ultimate  scientific,  social,  and  economic 
advantage,  it  is  quite  indefensible  to  attempt  to  secure  public  sup- 
port for  branches  of  investigation  already  adequately  provided  for 
thru  extant  agencies.  Owing  to  motives  of  local  pride,  and  some- 
times of  selfish  interest,  state  institutions  are  peculiarly  exposed  to 
the  danger  of  injudicious  and  unjustifiable  duplication  of  work  done 
in  neighboring  communities.  In  the  case  of  the  state  university, 
this  often  takes  the  form  of  propaganda  to  have  the  local  institution 
the  largest  of  its  kind,  to  have  it  cover  the  entire  field  of  human 
learning,  and,  in  general,  to  gratify  the  usually  laudable  human 
desire  for  pre-eminence.  The  interests  of  research  in  such  imperialis- 
tic propaganda  have  commonly  been  secondary,  but  they  have 
nevertheless  often  been  involved.  The  state  university,  for  example, 
must  have  the  greatest  engineering  school,  covering  engineering  in  all 
its  branches;  must  have  the  largest  and  best  equipped  agricultural 
establishment;  must  have  the  finest  school  for  journalism  and 
commerce;  and  so  forth  and  so  on.  Incidentally,  to  each  of  these 
added  items  in  the  educational  program,  there  is  likely  to  be  a  foot- 
note devoted  to  the  interests  of  research,  and  in  time  this  footnote 
tends  to  expand  into  a  full-fledged  paragraph  in  the  body  of  the  text. 
Now  there  are  undoubtedly  certain  fields  of  investigation — chemis- 
try may  serve  as  a  case  in  point — in  which  it  is  highly  improbable 
that  for  some  time  to  come  there  is  any  likelihood  of  excessive  pro- 


250  Indiana  University 

ductivity.  But  there  are  abundant  instances  of  a  very  different 
character.  The  amount  of  marine  engineering  which  can  be 
profitably  developed  in  interior  agricultural  communities  is  certainly 
not  very  large;  the  amount  of  research  in  vertebrate  paleontology 
which  the  scientific  demands  of  the  time  intrinsically  justify  is  in  the 
nature  of  the  case  somewhat  limited;  the  extent  of  the  profitable 
forms  of  research  which  can  by  many  institutions  be  undertaken  in 
the  field  of  the  ancient  languages  unquestionably  has  its  limits ;  and 
abundant  other  instances  will  readily  suggest  themselves.  It  must 
then  be  frankly  recognized,  as  part  of  any  intelligent  attempt  to 
secure  general  public  endorsement  of  research,  that  there  is  an  in- 
trinsic fitness  in  things  which  makes  it  inappropriate  to  undertake 
in  certain  institutions  and  in  certain  regions  types  of  work  which  are 
obviously  indigenous  to  other  institutions  or  communities,  or  which 
are  for  one  reason  or  another  already  adequately  cared  for  elsewhere. 
Any  attempt  to  expand  either  the  instructional  or  the  investigative 
work  of  our  institutions  beyond  the  boundaries  of  essential  intel- 
lectual propriety  and  the  general  effectiveness  of  our  national 
program  as  a  whole,  must  in  the  long  run  bring  discredit  upon  its 
promoters  and  undermine  the  public  confidence  in  scientific  and 
educational  experts.  It  may  be  remarked  that  the  National  Re- 
search Council  is  hoping  to  bring  about  thru  cooperative  means 
a  wiser  and  more  judicious  distribution  of  these  responsibilities  than 
now  exist. 

In  a  similar  way  must  be  recognized  the  necessity  for  exercising 
every  possible  care  to  protect  the  research  career  from  exploitation 
by  the  pedant,  the  fakir,  and  the  crank.  Research  work  is  in  the 
nature  of  the  case  of  a  character  to  render  prediction  of  its  ultimate 
value  always  precarious  and  frequently  impossible.  It  belongs,  like 
certain  of  our  agricultural  processes,  to  a  group  of  undertakings 
where,  for  the  best  interests  of  the  community,  there  should  always 
probably  be  some  excess  of  attempted  production  over  the  actual 
needs,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  inevitably  a  certain  fraction  of  the 
effort  expended  will  either  be  temporarily  or  permanently  unfruitful. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  research  must  in  the  long  run  justify  itself 
to  public  opinion,  and  this  it  will  do  only  if  it  be  confided  to  the  best 
trained  and  the  intellectually  most  competent.  There  is,  according- 
ly, peculiarly  urgent  need  for  the  exercise  of  drastic  selection  of  the 
men  privileged  to  participate  at  public  expense  in  the  administration 
of  research.  Nor  should  it  be  supposed  that  this  obligation  is  in  any 
sense  confined  to  scientific  investigation.  It  is  similar  in  character 
to  the  obligation  resting  upon  a  public  service  commission  to  see 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  251 

that  the  community  is  served  by  the  scientifically  competent,  that 
its  bridges  are  safe,  that  its  roadways  are  durably  built,  that  its 
water  supply  is  pure,  and  that  its  courts  are  honest  and  intelligent. 
It  differs  solely  in  the  fact  that  the  public  mind  has  not  as  yet 
come  to  recognize  so  fully  as  in  these  other  cases  the  cardinal  relation 
of  successful  research  to  the  highest  development  of  the  community. 

With  these  two  qualifications  in  mind,  to  wit,  an  intelligent 
distribution  of  the  responsibility  for  research,  and  the  further  obliga- 
tion of  careful  selection  of  the  personnel  entrusted  with  this  high 
privilege,  we  may  again  revert  to  the  discussion  of  the  general 
justification  of  investigation  in  pure  science  and  in  the  humanities. 

In  the  language  of  the  market-place,  it  is  relatively  easier  "to 
sell"  research  in  pure  natural  science  than  it  is  in  the  humanistic 
branches  and  in  part  at  least,  because  the  utilities  which  ever  and 
again  arise  from  the  practical  applications  of  investigations  in  these 
sciences  are  more  obvious,  and  generally  more  closely  related  to 
direct  economic  gain.  In  part  it  is  because  of  the  less  perfected 
technique  by  which  humanistic  investigation  is  conducted,  as  well 
as  by  virtue  of  the  more  esoteric  character  of  some  phases  of  the 
subject-matter.  A  few  illustrations  may  bring  out  what  is  here  in 
mind. 

It  is  fairly  clear  even  to  the  uneducated  how  a  discovery  in  pure 
chemistry,  tho  made  with  no  thought  of  its  practical  value, 
may  improve  the  processes  in  an  industry  like  that  of  the  pulp 
manufacturers  or  that  of  the  dye-makers,  and  the  saving  in 
money  and  the  improvement  in  the  output  are  both  reasonably 
obvious.  Similarly,  it  can  be  readily  understood  how  other  dis- 
coveries may  lead  to  improved  fertilizers  with  a  great  increase  in 
agricultural  productivity.  But  it  is  not  at  all  clear  what  possible 
relation  to  ultimate  community  advantage  exists  between  an 
archaeological  discovery  in  the  upper  valley  of  the  Nile  and  the 
conduct  of  village  life  in  central  Indiana.  Nor  is  it  easy  for  the 
average  individual  to  discern  what  ultimate  advantages  can  accrue 
to  American  communities  from  a  study  of  early  Icelandic.  The 
typical  scholar  of  the  Victorian  or  the  pre-Victorian  period  is  at  once 
disposed  to  throw  up  his  hands  and  insist  upon  the  intellectual 
immorality  of  attempting  to  discover  any  immediate  practical  values 
in  these  fields,  urging  as  the  sole  justification  for  pure  research — 
knowledge  for  knowledge's  sake.  This  is  a  comforting  doctrine 
and  one  which  states  undoubtedly  a  psychological  truth  so  far  as 
concerns  the  investigator.  Again  and  again  he  has  been  of  a  mind 
to  glory  in  his  specialty  in  the  measure  in  which  it  quite  certainly 


252  Indiana  University 

could  have  no  practical  value.  But  in  the  larger  conception  of  the 
social  organism,  and  particularly  in  the  conception  which  is  obliga- 
tory for  the  directors  of  a  state  educational  system,  there  must 
ultimately  be  some  significant  contact  points  between  research 
which  the  state  can  reasonably  be  asked  to  finance  and  the  public 
consequences  of  such  investigations. 

On  closer  analysis  of  the  situation  it  is  found  to  subdivide  it- 
self into  a  considerable  series  of  differing  fields.  In  economics,  for 
example,  and  political  science,  in  certain  phases  of  both  sociology 
and  history,  it  is  entirely  clear  that  research  may  have  direct  and 
immediate  value  for  the  political  and  social  institutions  of  a  state, 
even  when  the  investigations  are  undertaken  entirely  from  the  point 
of  view  of  their  theoretical  and  intellectual  interest.  Legislation 
may  be  improved,  institutional  organization  may  be  bettered,  and 
the  general  public  appreciation  of  its  own  problems  may  be  im- 
mensely enhanced  as  the  result  of  such  investigations.  Indeed,  it  is 
hardly  an  exaggeration  to  say  that  amateur  legislation  is  the  worst 
enemy  of  democratic  institutions.  But  it  is  much  more  difficult  in 
the  field  of  the  linguistic  studies  to  exhibit  this  direct  and  possibly 
immediate  return  to  community  advantage.  Certainly  the  argu- 
ment for  it  has  to  be  based  upon  more  indirect  and  elaborate  con- 
siderations, and  even  then  it  is  often  difficult  to  justify  the  promo- 
tion of  research  as  such  in  distinction  from  the  mere  diffusion  of 
already  acquired  knowledge. 

Education  in  the  United  States  has  recognized  this  situation 
practically  by  the  limitations  in  the  actual  languages  taught  in  our 
various  institutions.  In  an  earlier  generation  Greek  and  Latin 
were  universal  in  colleges.  Later  came  French,  German,  Spanish, 
and  Italian,  with  here  and  there  Portuguese,  Russian,  Chinese,  and 
Japanese.  But  many  of  the  languages  of  modern  Europe  are  to  the 
best  of  my  knowledge  and  belief  entirely  unrepresented,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  oriental  tongues.  This  is  neither  the  time  nor  the 
place  to  enter  upon  any  extended  analysis  of  the  educational 
principles  which  should  control  the  mere  teaching  of  ancient  or 
modern  languages,  and  without  this  it  would  be  difficult  to  discuss 
intelligently  the  corresponding  limitations  of  justifiable  research. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  as  a  pragmatic  principle  the  state  can  hardly 
be  asked  to  endow  research  which  may  not  be  expected  in  the  long 
run  to  make  some  measurable  return  to  the  intellectual  life  of  the 
community  which  fosters  it;  and,  at  any  given  time,  financial  re- 
sources being  in  the  nature  of  the  case  limited,  it  will  always  be 
necessary  to  choose  where  development  shall  first  occur.  Under 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  253 

these  conditions  one  may  predict  with  entire  certainty  that  resources 
will  not  generally  be  available  for  investigatory  work  in  fields  for 
which  the  public  has  absolutely  no  appreciation.  Funds  for  work 
in  these  fields  must  either  be  secured  from  private  benefactors  or 
must  wait  upon  the  slow  education  of  the  public  mind.  In  the  mean- 
time, it  will  always  be  legitimate  to  seek  and  urge  such  support 
wherever  the  case  may  be  made  clear  that  the  outcome  of  such 
research,  either  immediately  or  indirectly,  may  be  expected  to 
contribute  to  the  essential  development  of  the  community.  In  this 
conception  of  the  community  there  is  implied  not  simply  its  physical 
comfort  and  the  decencies  of  life,  but  its  intellectual,  moral,  and 
spiritual  development,  which  constitute  after  all  the  great  and 
lasting  criteria  of  national  development.  American  communities 
as  a  whole  are  at  the  moment  peculiarly  deficient  in  an  appre- 
ciation of  the  fine  arts  and  in  opportunities  for  growth  and  dis- 
cipline in  such  appreciation.  In  this  field  alone  the  possibilities  of 
education  are  almost  limitless,  and  with  such  education  will  come 
a  higher  evaluation  of  many  lines  of  humanistic  study  and  investiga- 
tion. 

Altho  the  fundamental  aims  of  education  still  constitute  a 
favorite  subject  of  debate  at  educational  conventions  and  other 
similar  gatherings,  there  is  a  general  concensus  that  the  education 
afforded  by  a  state  should  at  least  train  for  effective  citizenship. 
If  society  would  only  stand  still,  and  if  the  various  agencies  which 
it  employs  to  carry  on  its  business  would  similarly  remain  static  for 
a  little  while,  the  problem  proposed  to  the  educator  would  be 
relatively  simple.  One  could  train  a  young  man  for  a  specific  job 
with  some  certainty  that  when  he  was  delivered  by  the  university 
for  the  use  of  society  he  would  be  ready  to  take  up  his  calling  with 
little  or  no  necessity  for  readjustment.  Unfortunately  for  this 
theory  of  education,  life  is  provokingly  fluid;  little  or  nothing  stays 
put.  Whether  we  call  it  progress  or  decay,  we  have  at  least  to  reckon 
with  the  fact  of  constant  change,  and  if  this  be  true,  it  seems  fairly 
clear  that  the  dominant  emphasis  in  our  educational  program 
should  fall  upon  such  forms  of  training  as  promise  to  convey  in 
largest  degree  the  power  to  do  constructive  thinking  and  the  ability 
to  master  new  situations.  These  powers  are  of  the  very  essence  of 
research,  and  any  educational  program  which  substantially  disre- 
gards them  may  be  challenged  as  fundamentally  defective. 

Oddly  enough,  one-half  of  this  principle  is  very  generally  ac- 
cepted. Certainly  it  is  a  commonplace  to  hear  our  educational 
leaders  harp  upon  the  necessity  of  ability  to  master  new  tasks,  and 


254  Indiana  University 

to  accomplish  constructive  work;  and  yet  in  the  face  of  this,  prob- 
ably the  great  majority  of  them  are  still  advocating  forms  of  educa- 
tional training  in  which  this  constructive  element  is  all  but  wholly 
lacking.  Surely  a  good  case  may  be  made  for  the  obligation  of  a 
state,  in  so  far  as  it  desires  really  trained  young  people,  to  see  to  it 
that  each  and  every  one  is  from  the  earliest  practicable  point 
brought  up  in  an  atmosphere  saturated  with  incentives  to  critical 
thinking,  to  research,  and  to  constructive  intellectual  independence. 
How  far  our  conventional  academic  processes  fall  short  of  this  ideal 
is  best  known  to  those  engaged  in  their  administration.  It  surely 
needs  no  magnification  by  the  present  speaker  on  this  occasion. 

While  we  are  considering  education,  we  may  well  touch  upon 
certain  other  significant  points.  It  is  common  to  contrast  with 
one  another,  as  tho  the  two  were  wholly  antithetical,  research  work 
and  teaching.  The  common  assumption  is  that  teaching  is,  as  such, 
an  inevitable  impediment  to  the  conduct  of  research.  So  much  is 
this  the  case  that  one  constantly  hears  lauded  the  advantages  of 
research  institutes,  in  centra-distinction  to  university  appointments, 
as  giving  the  investigator  complete  freedom  from  the  interruptions 
of  teaching.  Unquestionably,  there  is  a  large  measure  of  truth 
in  this  antithesis,  for  there  are  many  forms  of  research  which  require 
for  their  successful  prosecution  the  uninterrupted  time  and  attention 
of  the  investigator,  and  just  in  that  degree  in  which  he  is  obliged 
to  give  his  time  to  instruction  in  the  classroom  is  his  accomplishment 
in  investigation  likely  to  be  curtailed. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  deeper  sense  in  which  teaching  and 
research  are  to  be  considered  simply  phases  of  a  common  process, 
and,  despite  the  possibility  of  exaggerating  the  extent  to  which  this 
is  true,  the  consideration  merits  a  brief  discussion  because  it  pre- 
sents a  conception  of  the  situation  ordinarily  neglected  and  often 
denied. 

Men  dealing  with  the  advanced  aspects  of  a  subject  and  with 
classes  made  up  of  fairly  expert  graduate  students  find  that  it  is 
possible  to  conduct  the  instruction  quite  in  the  spirit  of  research. 
It  is,  indeed,  often  possible  for  the  productive  investigator  to  take 
advantage  of  such  opportunities  to  present  his  own  investigatory 
work  in  ways  which  are  immensely  stimulating  to  his  students  and 
clarifying  to  himself.  But  the  condition  of  the  man  dealing  with 
young  students  and  very  elementary  subjects  is  generally  thought 
to  be  of  a  radically  different  kind,  and  one  precluding  the  possi- 
bility of  any  thought  of  research.  Certain  it  is  that  not  a  few  instruc- 
tors of  elementary  classes  carry  on  their  work  in  a  spirit  utterly 
remote  from  that  of  investigation ;  but  it  is  doubtful  whether  there 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  255 

is  any  field  in  which  this  is  altogether  necessary  and  it  is  certain 
that  for  the  most  part  a  competent  instructor  can  always  surround 
his  work  with  a  critical  atmosphere  of  scientific  investigation.  The 
best  and  most  inspiring  teaching  is  always  of  this  kind.  Indeed, 
it  may  perhaps  be  called  the  only  true  teaching.  Around  large 
ranges  of  our  academical  work  it  is  entirely  practicable  to  throw 
the  spirit  of  investigation,  and  only  when  this  is  done  does  such 
work  take  on  a  genuinely  university  character. 

In  the  last  analysis  then,  it  is  in  part,  at  least,  a  fallacious 
antithesis  to  set  investigation  and  teaching  over  against  one  an- 
other as  mutually  incompatible.  The  facts  are  quite  otherwise 
and  there  is  a  large  body  of  thoroly  competent  opinion  holding  that 
the  investigator  is  in  the  long  run  sure  to  be  more  productive  of 
sound  research,  provided  he  is  kept  in  contact  with  a  group  of  well- 
trained  and  alert  young  scholars.  No  one  can  doubt  that  the  clari- 
fying effect  upon  scientific  thinking  which  comes  from  the  necessity 
of  making  lucid  exposition  of  new  discoveries  and  theories  to  a 
competent  and  critical  audience  is  of  immense  value.  Moreover, 
the  history  of  scientific  research  is  replete  with  instances  of  in- 
vestigators who  have  multiplied  many  times  their  own  efficiency 
thru  the  immediate  stimulating  effect  which  they  have  exercised 
over  students  under  their  tutelage — an  effect  which  would  have  been 
much  more  slowly  and  much  less  widely  propagated  had  such  men 
been  working  in  relative  isolation. 

The  state  which  possesses  a  well-equipped  university  has  at 
its  disposal  a  body  of  experts  who  may  and  should  be  called  upon 
whenever  the  state  is  confronted  with  new  scientific  problems.  But 
the  state  cannot  maintain  a  competent  staff  of  this  kind  unless  it 
affords  the  university  adequate  resources  to  retain  such  men,  and 
a  precondition  of  their  retention  is  the  supplying  of  opportunities 
for  research. 

The  university  also  enjoys  one  peculiar  advantage  as  a  center 
for  scientific  investigation  in  that  it  normally  has  within  its  faculty 
men  representing  a  considerable  range  of  scientific  fields.  Most  of 
the  great  scientific  problems  confronting  a  modern  state  involve 
a  considerable  group  of  sciences  for  their  solution.  Water  supply, 
sewage,  public  health,  all  run  out  into  questions  where  the  chemist, 
the  bacteriologist,  the  physician,  and  the  engineer,  to  mention  no 
others,  are  involved.  The  presence  of  men  in  all  these  fields  on  a 
well-appointed  university  faculty  renders  it  possible  to  secure  there 
a  cooperative  attack  upon  these  basic  problems  such  as  no  other 
group  of  institutions  can  offer.  That  the  universities  have  not  been 
more  widely  used  in  this  way  reflects  no  great  credit  on  our  state 


256  Indiana  University 

governments,  but  conditions  have  in  this  particular  in  many  states 
improved  very  rapidly  of  late. 

While  the  states  have  gone  far  to  recognize  certain  forms  of 
research,  their  universities  have  for  the  most  part  come  in  for  a 
disproportionately  small  share  of  the  corresponding  financial  sup- 
port. University  budgets  are  drawn  primarily  to  cover  instruction 
and  administration.  Any  funds  for  general  research  purposes  are 
ordinarily  smuggled  in  under  cover  of  one  or  other  of  these  headings. 
The  exceptions  to  this  rule  are  so  few  as  practically  to  prove  it  cor- 
rect. Now  while  it  is  undoubtedly  true  that  the  best  university 
teaching  is  always  done  from  the  point  of  view  of  discovery  and  in- 
vestigation, it  is  equally  true  that  this  spirit  cannot  be  kept  alive 
by  mere  act  of  will.  There  must  be  adequate  libraries,  laboratories, 
and  equipment  to  permit  the  actual  conduct  of  scientific  research, 
otherwise  the  spirit  flags  and  the  whole  operation  presently  becomes 
a  farce.  These  facilities  require  money  and  in  relatively  consider- 
able amounts,  and  it  is  part  of  the  duty  of  the  intelligent  citizens  of 
the  state  to  see  to  it  that  legislatures  have  this  fact  brought  vividly 
home  to  them.  To  leave  this  task  wholly  to  the  university  author- 
ities is  stupid  and  unfair.  It  puts  upon  them  more  than  their  just 
share  of  the  burden  of  intelligent  legislation,  and  it  greatly  decreases 
the  possibilities  of  prompt  action,  for  legislatures  inevitably  regard 
all  such  officials  as  somewhat  partisan  and  prejudiced. 

To  sum  up  the  whole  matter  then,  the  situation  appears  to  be 
one  in  which  the  obligation  of  the  state  to  support  research  is 
hardly  open  to  question.  Enlightened  self-interest,  if  nothing 
higher,  indicates  unequivocally  the  wisdom  of  this  course.  Whether 
the  state  shall  accomplish  its  objects  exclusively  thru  special 
boards,  bureaus,  institutes,  and  commissions,  or  thru  the  machinery 
of  its  state  educational  institutions,  the  speaker  has  made  no  attempt 
to  assert.  Indeed,  the  conditions  in  the  different  states  vary  so 
widely,  and  for  that  matter  the  intrinsic  character  of  certain  of  the 
problems  to  be  solved,  that  probably  no  general  rule  is  or  should  be 
valid.  In  any  event,  the  detailed  execution  of  a  plan  is  in  this  case 
of  far  less  moment  than  the  recognition  of  a  fundamental  oppor- 
tunity and  obligation. 

In  the  interests  of  education,  for  the  sake  of  public  health  and 
happiness,  and  for  the  promotion  of  the  highest  intellectual  and 
spiritual  development  of  the  community,  a  liberal  support  of  a  well- 
considered  program  of  scientific  and  humanistic  investigation  is  in- 
dispensable. A  bold  and  fearless  campaign  for  the  recognition  of 
this  principle  is  one  of  the  pressing  obligations  resting  on  all  good 
citizens. 


THE  FUTURE  OF  LEGAL  EDUCATION 


Roscoe  Pound  was  born  at  Lincoln,  Nebraska,  on  October  27,  1870.  He 
received  the  A.B.  degree  at  the  University  of  Nebraska  in  1888,  the  A.M.  in 
1889,  and  the  Ph.D.  in  1897.  In  1889-90  he  attended  the  Harvard  Law  School. 
The  following  institutions  have  conferred  honorary  degrees  upon  him:  North- 
western University,  LL.M.,  1908;  University  of  Michigan,  LL.D.,  1913;  Univers- 
ity of  Nebraska,  LL.D.,  1913,  D.C.L.,  1917;  University  of  Missouri,  LL.D.,  1916; 
University  of  Chicago,  LL.D.,  1916;  Brown  University,  LL.D.,  1919;  Harvard 
University,  LL.D.,  1920.  Dr.  Pound  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in  1890,  and  prac- 
ticed at  Lincoln,  Nebraska,  1890-1901  and  1903-7.  In  1899  he  became  assistant 
professor  of  law  at  the  University  of  Nebraska,  and  dean  of  the  College  of  Law 
in  1903.  In  1907  he  went  to  Northwestern  University  as  professor  of  law,  where 
he  remained  two  years,  when  he  went  to  the  University  of  Chicago.  In  1910 
he  became  Story  professor  of  law  in  Harvard  University;  in  1913,  Carter  professor 
of  jurisprudence;  and  dean  of  the  Law  School  in  1916.  Dr.  Pound  served  as 
director  of  the  Botanical  Survey  of  Nebraska  from  1892  to  1903;  commissioner  of 
appeals,  in  the  supreme  court  of  Nebraska,  1901-3 ;  Nebraska  commissioner  on  uni- 
form state  laws,  1904-7.  He  is  a  member  of  the  Nebraska  Academy  of  Sciences, 
Ecological  Society  of  America,  and  American  Microscopical  Society;  Associe 
Libre  de  1'Academie  Internationale  de  Geographic  Botanique;  a  fellow  of  the 
American  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Science  and  of  the  American  Acad- 
emy of  Arts  and  Sciences;  member  of  the  Botanical  Society  of  America.  He  was 
chairman  of  the  section  of  legal  education  of  the  American  Bar  Association,  1907; 
secretary  of  the  Nebraska  State  Bar  Association,  1901-7;  president  of  the  Asso- 
ciation of  American  Law  Schools,  1911;  and  is  a  directo'r  of  the  American  Judi- 
cature Society.  Dean  Pound  is  the  author  (with  Dr.  F.  E.  Clements)  of  Phyto- 
geography  of  Nebraska,  Readings  on  the  History  and  System  of  the  Common  Law, 
Readings  on  Roman  Law,  Cases  on  Torts  (editor),  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of 
Freemasonry,  and  of  many  monographs  and  articles  in  European  and  American 
legal  and  botanical  periodicals.  He  is  one  of  the  editors  of  the  International 
Journal  of  Ethics  and  was  one  of  the  editors  of  Flora  of  Nebraska  and  of  Reports 
of  the  Botanical  Survey  of  Nebraska,  from  1892  to  1907. 


(257) 


THE  FUTURE  OF  LEGAL  EDUCATION 

By  ROSCOE  POUND 

IN  THE  GOOD  OLD  DAYS  of  household  remedies,  the  prudent  house- 
wife who  was  well  instructed  in  the  wisdom  of  her  foremothers  was 
wont  to  prepare  an  annual  draught  for  the  children  of  the  household 
and  to  administer  it  in  early  spring,  that  their  systems  might,  as  it 
were,  undergo  a  wholesome  house-cleaning  in  preparation  for  an- 
other year.  Originally  she  gathered  her  own  herbs  and  distilled  her 
own  extracts.  But  today,  if  there  are  any  that  adhere  to  the  ancient 
ways,  a  paternal  state,  by  means  of  pure  food  and  drug  legislation, 
enables  them  to  buy  the  ingredients  with  assurance  at  the  neigh- 
borhood drug-store.  A  current  view  of  education  pictures  teaching 
as  a  process  of  this  sort.  It  is  the  administration  of  a  series  of  tonic 
and  alterative  and  possibly  purgative  draughts  in  the  springtime 
of  life,  that  the  system  may  be  toned  up  for  the  strenuous  compe- 
titive years  that  are  to  follow.  Ladle  in  hand,  the  teacher  stands 
beside  a  bowl  of  chemically  pure  dope  which  the  wisdom  and  ex- 
perience of  the  past  have  prescribed.  Its  ingredients  are  guaranteed 
by  state  inspection  and  the  mixing  has  been  done  under  state  super- 
vision. It  contains  everything  which  organized  zeal  and  organized 
interest  have  been  able  to  impress  upon  the  legislative  wisdom  and 
it  is  free  from  anything  which  the  latest  wave  of  propaganda  has 
been  able  to  move  the  lawmaker  to  exclude.  An  orderly  procession 
of  youth  passes  before  the  teacher  and  each  receives  the  appointed 
dose.  It  is  the  teacher's  function  to  fill  the  ladle  scrupulously,  to 
administer  the  dose  fairly,  and  to  see  that  it  is  duly  swallowed.  In 
this  spirit,  the  president  of  our  greatest  university  in  point  of  num- 
bers has  told  us  that  all  we  need  in  teaching  is  laborious,  steady- 
going  mediocrity.  The  teacher  must  be  a  person  who  will  not  be 
tempted  to  slip  anything  of  his  own  into  the  officially  certified 
mixture;  he  must  be  one  upon  whom  we  may  rely  to  fill  the  ladle 
to  its  full  capacity,  to  drop  none  of  its  contents,  to  let  no  one  go 
by  undosed,  to  pour  the  full  content  down  each  student  throat,  and 
to  see  that  it  goes  down.  That  such  instruction  by  dosing  the  mind 
is  as  futile  as  we  now  deem  the  dosing  of  the  body,  to  which  it  bears 
so  obvious  an  analogy,  was  one  of  the  heresies  for  which  Socrates 
was  executed.  Faith  in  a  spring  medicine  which  will  safeguard 

(259) 


260  Indiana  University 

the  mind  of  youth  against  disturbing  doubts  and  restless  thoughts 
and  rebellious  ideas  is  as  naive  as  the  old-time  faith  in  the  efficacy  of 
sulphur  and  molasses  to  fortify  the  youthful  body  against  disease. 

Altho  law  was  one  of  the  first  subjects  of  academic  study  in  the 
universities  of  modern  Europe,  our  Anglo-American  law  has  had 
primarily  a  non-academic  development.  Blackstone's  teaching  at 
Oxford  bore  fruit  on  this  side  of  the  water  much  more  than  at  home. 
Even  now  university  teaching  of  law  has  made  but  little  progress 
in  England.  The  oldest  American  law  school  is  entering  on  its 
second  century.  But  it  has  pursued  the  study  of  law  by  the  method 
of  the  university,  as  distinguished  from  the  method  of  the  law  office, 
for  not  more  than  half  of  its  existence,  and  scientific  study  of  law  in 
university  law  schools  has  come  into  general  recognition  in  America 
within  a  generation.  During  the  greater  part  of  its  history,  the  legal 
profession  in  the  United  States  was  trained  after  the  manner  of 
apprenticeship  in  the  offices  of  practitioners.  And  today,  when  the 
majority  of  those  who  are  admitted  to  the  bar  have  come  to  be 
school-trained,  they  proceed  for  much  the  greater  part  from  schools 
which  preserve  the  methods  and  modes  of  thought  of  the  law  office; 
from  schools  which  adhere  to  the  sulphur-and-molasses  theory  of 
instruction  and  look  askance  upon  the  scientific  and  academic. 
The  good  side  of  this  story — for  it  has  a  good  side — is  not  our  con- 
cern at  this  moment.  What  concerns  us  now  is  to  note  how  the 
system  of  apprenticeship  under  a  preceptor  in  a  law  office  has  left 
its  stamp  both  on  the  law  and  on  lawyers.  To  the  latter,  the  tradi- 
tion in  which  they  had  been  trained  seemed  the  legal  order  of  nature; 
arbitrary  rules  resting  upon  history  seemed  to  exist  for  their  own 
sake;  time-consuming  procedure  seemed  "scientific"  because  it  had 
lost  all  relation  to  realities,  and  solving  words,  in  the  absence  of 
general  ideas,  passed  for  principles.  Truly  when  a  body  of  law  so 
shaped  came  into  the  universities  it  came  upon  dangerous  ground. 
Not  the  devil,  says  Lord  Acton,  but  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  was  the 
first  Whig.  For  when  the  Angelical  Doctor  taught  men  to  sustain 
authority  by  reason,  he  taught  them  to  try  authority  by  reason  and 
presently  to  overthrow  it  by  reason.  When  Judge  Baldwin  urges 
that  the  academic  law  teacher  of  today  has  created  a  "new  peril" 
in  our  law,  a  crisis  comparable,  it  may  be,  to  the  twelfth-century 
conflict  of  state  law  with  church  law,  to  the  sixteenth-century  con- 
flict with  Roman  law,  to  the  rise  of  equity,  to  the  development 
of  the  law  merchant,  and  to  the  movement  for  codification  and  in- 
fluence of  French  law  at  the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  he  speaks 
truly  from  the  standpoint  of  one  who  could  say  judicially  that  our 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  261 

happily  obsolete  fellow-servant  doctrine  rested  "upon  considerations 
of  right  and  justice  that  have  been  generally  accepted  by  the  people 
of  the  United  States".  May  we  not  hope  much  from  this  "new  peril" 
when  we  note  what  each  preceding  peril  achieved  for  the  legal  ad- 
ministration of  justice  and  what  element  of  the  legal  system  was 
imperiled  in  each  case? 

For  what  is  it  that  scientific  teaching  of  law  in  universities  puts  in 
jeopardy?  "Reason",  says  Lord  Coke,  "is  the  life  of  the  law;  nay 
the  common  law  itself  is  nothing  else  but  reason."  In  the  university 
this  reason  becomes  a  living  reason,  in  touch  with  and  stimulated 
by  all  the  intellectual  movements  of  the  time.  Law  becomes  in 
truth  one  of  the  social  sciences.  Its  materials  are  not  measured  and 
shaped  solely  with  reference  to  themselves.  Its  methods  and  ideas 
must  pass  the  ordeal  of  comparison  with  the  methods  and  ideas  of 
economics  and  politics  and  history  and  sociology.  Much  that  has 
been  dear  to  the  practitioner  of  the  past  is  threatened  in  such  an 
environment.  But  it  was  already  moribund  and  the  question  was 
only  whether  it  should  fall  before  critical  study  and  be  rebuilt  upon 
scientific  lines  or  should  fall  before  the  legislative  steam  roller  and 
be  replaced  by  the  offhand  products  of  the  legislative  exigencies  of 
the  moment.  The  main  point  in  teaching  law,  as  in  all  teaching,  is 
to  know  truly  the  subject.  Nothing  can  be  known  thru  itself  alone. 
"To  know  rules  of  law",  said  the  Roman  jurist,  "is  not  merely  to 
understand  the  words,  but  as  well  their  force  and  operation."  It  is 
not  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  client-caretaker,  who  is  the  leading  type 
in  the  American  bar  of  today,  nor  in  schools  which  reflect  only  his 
ideals,  that  law  will  be  understood  or  taught  in  its  force  and  opera- 
tion. We  must  rely  rather  upon  the  atmosphere  of  a  university 
where  the  teacher  of  law  will  be  held  to  justify  his  learning  before 
scientific  colleagues  in  many  cognate  fields.  One  needs  but  look  at 
the  legal  periodicals  which  are  issuing  from  American  university 
law  schools  to  see  that  while  the  law  in  law  sheep-binding  or  law 
buckram  is  abstract  and  lifeless,  the  law  in  our  schools  is  concrete 
and  living.  In  any  rational  use  of  the  term,  the  practical  law  of 
today  is  the  law  taught  in  our  academic  law  schools,  not  the  defini- 
tions and  hollow  formulas  and  arbitrary  rules  of  our  examinations 
for  admission  to  the  bar. 

President  Butler  thinks  of  sociological  jurisprudence  as  legal 
osteopathy  and  is  shocked  at  the  idea  of  a  professorial  masseur 
massaging  the  Corpus  Juris.  Perhaps  some  may  feel  that  there  are 
dry  bones  in  the  law  that  would  not  be  the  worse  for  such  a  process. 
But  before  we  condemn  the  professorial  healer,  let  us  see  what  the 


262  Indiana  University 

regular  practitioners  have  done  and  are  doing.  Within  a  generation 
they  have  allowed  the  whole  law  of  public  utilities  to  pass  from  the 
domain  of  adjudication  to  that  of  administration.  Within  a  decade 
they  have  allowed  a  large  part  of  the  law  of  torts  to  pass  from  courts 
to  industrial  commissions.  Because  of  their  indifference  to  a  matter 
of  grave  concern  to  the  mass  of  the  people,  the  whole  conduct  of 
petty  litigation  bids  fair  to  depart  from  judicial  methods  and  to 
become  administrative.  In  one  state  but  the  other  day  the  settle- 
ment of  mutual  accounts  between  farmers  and  commission 
merchants  was  taken  from  courts  of  equity  and  committed  to  an 
agricultural  commission.  Even  in  criminal  law,  which  has  been 
par  excellence  the  domain  of  the  common  law,  juvenile  courts, 
boards  of  children's  guardians,  parole  and  probation  commissions, 
and  administrative  individualisation  of  penal  treatment  are  con- 
stantly narrowing  the  actual  field  of  judicial  justice.  For  more  than 
a  century  the  lawyer's  main  interest  has  been  in  the  security  of  prop- 
erty and  contract.  Today  these  fields  too  are  invaded  by  administra- 
tive jurisdiction.  After  courts  have  vainly  sought  to  adjudicate  water 
rights  and  regulate  the  exercise  of  them  with  the  traditional  pro- 
cedural machinery  and  along  traditional  lines,  an  increasing  number 
of  states  are  committing  these  things  to  boards  of  engineers.  After 
courts  have  stubbornly  refused  to  take  account  of  the  exigencies 
and  the  methods  of  modern  business,  the  mercantile  community  is 
more  and  more  turning  to  extra-legal  adjustment  of  business  con- 
troversies. As  to  new  problems,  such  as  industrial  disputes,  no  one 
thinks  of  referring  them  to  judicial  cognizance.  We  turn  at  once 
to  administrative  industrial  tribunals.  A  condition  in  professional 
thought  and  judicial  administration  which  drives  a  people  of  our 
traditions  to  revert  to  personal  justice — to  set  up  administrative 
tribunals  proceeding  after  the  manner  of  Harun  al  Raschid  or  of 
St.  Louis  under  the  oak  at  Vincennes — such  a  condition  cries  out  for 
juristic  osteopathy. 

Another  serious  obstacle  to  the  development  of  legal  education  is 
popular  aversion  to  the  imposition  of  standards  for  admission  to  the 
profession.  Here  lawyer  and  layman  work  in  concert.  The  prac- 
titioner feels  that  the  scientifically  trained  lawyer  will  not  revere 
formulas  for  their  own  sake  nor  credit  apocryphal  reasons  author- 
itatively set  behind  historical  anomalies  and  thus  will  unsettle  what 
has  long  been  established.  The  layman  feels  that  it  is  "undemo- 
cratic" to  exact  a  scientific  training  of  one  who  is  to  practice  a 
profession  so  nearly  related  to  politics  as  the  profession  of  law. 
The  distrust  of  the  competent  is  an  old-time  by-product  of  demo- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  263 

cracy.  The  Athenian  Demos  feared  the  exceptional  man  and 
Athenian  political  institutions  were  adapted  to  the  elimination  of 
the  superior.  It  was  thought  dangerous  to  have  any  man  in  the 
community  whose  powers  and  abilities  were  above  the  ordinary. 
Even  philosophers  became  infected  with  this  feeling. 
Plato  says,  speaking,  of  the  ideal  state : 

Shall  we  not  find  that  in  such 

a  city  a  shoemaker  is  only  a  shoemaker  and  not  a  pilot  along  with  shoemaking; 
and  that  the  farmer  is  only  a  farmer  and  not  a  judge  along  with  farming;  and  that 

the  soldier  is  only  a  soldier  and  not  a  business  man  besides And  if 

a  man  who  through  wisdom  were  able  to  become  everything  and  to  do  everything 
were  to  come  to  our  city  and  should  wish  to  show  us  his  poems,  we  should  honor 
him,  ....  but  we  should  tell  him  there  is  no  such  person  in  our  city,  nor 
is  there  any  such  allowed  to  be,  and  we  should  send  him  to  some  other  city. 

There  is  nothing  peculiarly  American  in  our  cult  of  incom- 
petency.  But  it  puts  a  heavy  strain  on  institutions  where  so  much 
is  made  to  turn  upon  the  law.  Our  common-law  doctrine  of  the 
supremacy  of  law  makes  the  most  vital  social  and  political  questions 
into  legal  questions  and  expects  the  judges  to  pronounce  oracles 
upon  them.  When  a  conscientious  but  narrowly  trained  bench 
delivers  narrow  pronouncements  that  write  the  word  "can't"  over 
every  clause  of  our  constitutions,  state  and  national,  we  begin  to 
doubt  the  wisdom  of  the  founders  and  experiment  with  political 
nostrums  rather  than  try  the  dangerous  expedient  of  insuring  that 
only  competent  and  thoroly  trained  lawyers  enter  the  profession 
that  leads  to  the  bench.  Surely  scientific  training  of  the  bar  is 
much  less  of  a  wrench  to  our  institutions  than  many  things  we  have 
been  doing  in  the  endeavor  to  get  away  from  petty  interpretations 
of  a  great  legal  document.  In  the  end,  nothing  less  than  this  train- 
ing of  those  who  are  to  interpret  and  apply  that  document  may  be 
made  to  serve  our  need.  We  must  admit  in  our  practice  and  not 
merely  in  our  speech  that  law  is  a  science. 

Our  law  must  be  studied  as  other  great  sciences  are  studied  and  taught  at  the 
universities;  as  deeply,  by  like  methods,  and  with  as  thorough  a  concentration 
and  life-long  devotion  of  all  the  powers  of  a  learned  and  studious  faculty. 

But  we  are  told  that  law  is  a  practical  thing  and  that  the  law  of 
academic  law  schools  is  too  much  what  ought  to  be  and  not  what  is. 
Engineering  is  a  practical  matter;  medicine  is  a  practical  matter; 
architecture  is  a  practical  matter.  Yes,  agriculture  is  a  practical 
matter.  In  each  of  these  practical  subjects  the  practitioner  has  had 
to  learn  that  what  ought  to  be  and  what  is  are  inseparably  connected; 
that  what  is  can  only  maintain  itself  by  being  or  becoming  what 
ought  to  be,  and  that  much  doing  of  a  routine  process  by  rule  of 


264  Indiana  University 

thumb  does  not  of  necessity  give  insight  into  what  is  nor  capacity 
to  judge  of  what  ought  to  be. 

Note  for  a  moment  what  the  so-called  practical  legal  education 
has  done  for  American  administration  of  justice.  For  one  thing  it 
has  filled  our  law  books  with  specious  solving  words  which  cannot 
stand  up  before  analysis  and  defeat  the  ends  of  law  in  their  applica- 
tion. One  has  but  to  read  the  current  decisions  on  "mutuality"  in 
equity  to  see  the  mischief  such  words  may  do  in  giving  an  appearance 
of  justification  to  arbitrary  and  unjust  results.  He  has  but  to  read 
the  current  decisions  as  to  "waiver"  to  see  how  the  law  may  be  un- 
settled by  such  words  while  preserving  an  appearance  of  certainty. 
The  critical  student  of  law  will  think  also  of  "malice",  "privity", 
"remoteness",  "estoppel",  and  many  more  of  this  breed  of  over- 
worked and  much-enduring  words  that  should  be  given  an  eight-hour 
day  and  pay  for  over-time. 

Again,  in  the  last  generation  "practical"  legal  education  gave  us 
that  faith  in  procedure  for  its  own  sake  the  results  of  which  still  dis- 
figure the  application  of  law  in  our  courts  and  drive  an  impatient 
people  more  and  more  to  administration  at  the  expense  of  adjudica- 
tion. There  has  been  much  improvement  in  the  past  two  decades. 
Perhaps  ability  to  "get  error  into  the  record"  is  no  longer  the  accept- 
ed test  of  a  skilful  lawyer.  Perhaps  we  are  not  so  sure  as  we 
were  a  generation  ago  that  it  is  unscientific  to  win  a  case  upon  its 
merits.  But  hypertrophy  of  procedure  is  still  the  distinguishing 
mark  of  American  law,  and  improvement  has  gone  along  with 
the  advent  of  scientifically  trained  lawyers  and  has  gone  farthest 
where  such  lawyers  have  had  the  most  influence. 

Again,  in  the  last  generation  "practical"  legal  education  gave  us  a 
joy  and  faith  in  subtle  logical  distinctions  for  their  own  sake.  If  it 
could  be  shown  logically  that  a  harsh  and  unjust  rule  was  logically 
demanded  by  analysis  of  our  traditional  legal  materials,  that  result 
was  hailed  as  a  triumph.  The  imperative  demands  of  justice  and 
good  sense  have  made  most  of  these  juristic  or  judicial  triumphs  of 
the  nineteenth  century  short-lived.  But  the  teacher  must  still 
struggle  with  the  remnants  of  imputed  negligence  and  non-liability 
of  manufacturer  or  vendor  to  third  persons  and  many  like  examples 
of  the  "practical"  in  action.  In  truth  they  were  so  completely 
practical  that  they  proved  wholly  impractical. 

For  another  example,  one  may  vouch  the  joy  and  faith  of  the  last 
generation  in  arbitrary  long-established  rules  for  their  own  sake;  its 
belief  that  the  fixed  rules  of  our  law  of  evidence  were  an  organon  for 
the  discovery  of  truth ;  its  belief  that  the  feudal  rules  of  our  law  of 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  265 

real  property  had  some  intrinsic  universal  validity  and  that  every 
part  of  the  administration  of  justice  could  and  should  be  subjected 
to  strict  rules  after  this  model.  The  past  generation  of  lawyers  saw 
virtue  in  such  things.  A  rule  that  was  arbitrary  and  at  variance 
with  common  sense  proved  that  law  was  law.  It  reminded  us,  to  use 
Coke's  words,  that  if  reason  is  the  life  of  the  law,  yet  this  means  the 
"artificial  reason  and  judgment  of  the  law  and  not  every  man's 
natural  reason".  Thus  every  departure  from  the  dictates  of  con- 
venience and  the  requirements  of  justice  seemed  to  justify  itself. 

Again,  the  "practical"  training  of  the  past  gave  us  the  assump- 
tion that  the  common  law  is  a  body  of  fixed  principles  and  the  faith 
in  absolute  deduction  therefrom  which  has  led  in  so  many  subjects  of 
vital  present  concern  to  a  throwing  over  of  law  and  resort  to  ad- 
ministrative boards,  when  a  scientific  development  of  our  traditional 
methods  and  traditional  legal  materials  would  have  sufficed. 

But,  above  all,  the  so-called  practical  legal  education  led  in  the 
last  century  to  a  na'ive  faith  in  abstract  justice.  Abstract  justice  of 
the  content  of  abstract  rules  was  everything;  the  results  of  their 
actual  application  to  concrete  cases  were  a  negligible  detail.  The 
abstract  justice  of  a  universal  formula  was  something  valuable  in 
itself,  be  the  results  in  action  what  they  might.  The  classical  story 
of  the  English  judge,  before  the  setting  up  of  the  divorce  court,  who 
in  sentencing  a  workingman  convicted  of  bigamy  explained  to  him 
how  by  three  legal  proceedings  and  the  expenditure  of  some  nine 
hundred  pounds  he  would  have  been  legally  competent  to  remarry 
after  his  wife  had  deserted  him  and  gone  to  live  with  an  adulterer, 
and  assured  him  that  it  had  ever  been  the  glory  of  England  not  to 
have  one  law  for  the  rich  and  another  for  the  poor,  is  a  just  satire 
upon  the  general  attitude  of  the  profession  in  the  last  century.  Our 
own  reports  are  full  of  solemn  pronouncements  of  the  same  sort, 
when  measured  by  the  facts  of  everyday  life.  Within  a  generation 
American  courts  were  telling  us  that  a  statute  as  to  hours  of  labor 
made  the  laborers  "wards  of  the  state" ;  that  statutes  as  to  payment 
of  wages  in  cash  treated  laborers  as  imbeciles;  that  a  statute  for- 
bidding payment  of  employees  in  orders  on  a  company  store  classed 
them  with  infants,  lunatics,  and  felons;  that  an  employers'  liability 
act  made  the  employer  liable  arbitrarily  where  there  was  no  respon- 
sibility in  morals ;  and  that  the  fellow-servant  rule  was  but  declara- 
tory of  general  ideas  of  justice  entertained  by  the  whole  people. 
And  the  results  have  been  quite  as  bad  as  the  language  used  in 
reaching  them.  The  common-law  doctrine  of  supremacy  of  law 
was  needlessly  imperiled  by  twenty-five  years  of  unintelligent 


266  Indiana  University 

judicial  obstruction  of  social  legislation.  The  lawyer's  habit  of 
working  out  all  possible  difficulties  by  a  purely  logical  process  on 
the  basis  of  abstract  propositions  and  his  instinctive  fear  that  any- 
thing new  might  open  a  way  for  magisterial  caprice  has  made  the 
profession  much  more  critical  of  projects  for  improving  the  law 
than  fertile  in  devising  them.  Hence  the  most  effective  improve- 
ments in  the  administration  of  justice  today  have  been  worked  out 
by  laymen  and  are  in  the  hands  of  administrative  rather  than  of 
judicial  officers.  Hence,  also,  we  are  looking  to  extra-legal  or,  at 
least,  extra-judicial  agencies  to  solve  the  great  legal  problem  of 
today — how  to  secure  the  social  interests  which  are  threatened  by 
the  everyday  phenomena  of  industrial  warfare. 

Three  stages  may  be  perceived  in  the  development  of  the 
American  bar.  The  first  stage  is  marked  by  the  hegemony  of  the 
trial  lawyer.  The  great  achievements  of  the  bar  were  in  the  forum 
and  the  most  conspicuous  success  was  success  before  juries  in  the 
trial  of  criminal  causes.  Hence  the  modes  of  thought  of  the  pro- 
fession were  molded  by  the  exigencies  of  nisi  prius.  Apprenticeship 
to  an  experienced,  resourceful,  busy  trial  lawyer  was  the  ideal 
training.  The  bench  and  the  legislature  were  recruited  from  the 
trial  bar.  The  law  was  largely  fashioned  to  be  a  body  of  rules  for 
use  in  the  trial  of  causes.  This  stage  lasted  until  the  Civil  War  and 
perhaps  still  persists  in  some  rural  or  frontier  communities. 

In  a  second  stage,  leadership  passed  to  the  railroad  lawyer.  A 
generation  ago  the  goal  of  professional  ambition  and  the  proof  of 
professional  success  was  to  represent  a  railroad.  The  leaders  of  the 
profession  were  permanently  employed  as  defenders;  their  energies, 
their  ingenuity,  and  their  learning  were  constantly  employed  in 
defeating  or  thwarting  those  who  sought  relief  against  railroad 
companies  in  the  courts.  But  judges  and  legislators,  especially 
where  the  bench  was  elective,  were  seldom  chosen  from  these  leaders 
and  often  waged  an  unequal  contest  with  them,  which  has  left  many 
marks  upon  the  law  of  today.  In  this  stage  also  apprenticeship  was 
a  useful  mode  of  training;  but  the  highest  positions  called  for 
trained  minds.  Yet  the  training  needed  was  exclusively  historical 
and  analytical,  for  creative  juristic  thinking  was  quite  outside  the 
province  of  the  leaders  of  the  profession. 

Today  the  hegemony  has  passed  to  the  client-caretaker.  He 
seldom  or  never  goes  into  court.  His  function  is  to  advise;  to  ad- 
minister trusts;  to  conserve  investments;  to  organize,  re-organize, 
and  direct  business  enterprises ;  to  point  out  dangers  and  mark  safe 
channels  and  chart  reefs  for  the  business  adventurer;  to  act,  as  it 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  267 

were,  as  a  steward  for  the  absentee  owners  of  our  industries.  The 
other  functions  of  the  lawyer  he  leaves  to  the  lower  walks  of  the 
profession.  The  actual  administration  of  justice  interests  him  only 
as  it  discloses  reefs  or  bars  or  currents  to  be  avoided  by  the  pilot  of 
business  men.  The  legal  order  as  a  means  of  satisfying  human 
wants,  the  great  mass  of  human  interests  that  clamor  for  recognition, 
the  perennial  problem  of  reconciling  these  interests  in  the  administra- 
tion of  justice  between  man  and  man,  mean  nothing  to  him.  If  he 
thinks  of  them,  it  is  to  dismiss  them  as  matters  for  the  theorist,  as 
subjects  for  professors  of  economics  or  of  sociology .  Thus  the  lead- 
ers of  the  profession  have  no  interest  in  the  most  vital  questions  of 
the  law  of  today,  and  in  consequence  the  hegemony  in  our  institu- 
tions is  passing  from  courts  to  executives  and  from  lawyers  to  admin- 
istrators. If  a  state  university  were  training  men  simply  to  take 
high  places  in  a  profession  whose  leaders  are  permanently  of  this 
type,  its  governing  board  should  consider  seriously  how  far  they  may 
justify  the  expenditure  of  public  funds  in  maintaining  a  law  school. 

To  what  end  does  the  state  provide  legal  education  for  its  youth? 
In  part,  one  may  concede,  it  seeks  to  train  its  youth  in  the  different 
vocations  by  which  they  may  make  their  way  in  life  and  take  up  and 
bear  the  burdens  of  manhood.  But  surely  the  main  consideration 
is  that  in  our  Anglo-American  polity  so  much  depends  on  law  that 
good  lawyers  are  a  social  asset.  Of  the  three  sides  to  the  lawyer's 
activities,  namely,  (1)  the  earning  of  a  livelihood,  (2)  securing  the 
rights  and  defending  the  interests  of  those  who  employ  him,  and 
(3)  promoting  the  administration  of  justice  according  to  law  and 
advancing  right  and  justice  in  the  world, — of  these  three,  the  state 
may,  perhaps,  have  an  interest  in  all.  But  the  interest  of  the  univer- 
sity is  in  the  third.  And  the  paramount  interest  of  the  state  is  in 
the  third  also.  The  professional  organization  of  the  Middle  Ages  and 
the  apprentice  system  of  training  took  care  of  the  first  and  second. 
But  the  breakdown  of  professional  organization  and  ruthless  destruc- 
tion of  professional  feeling  in  the  Jefferson  Brick  era  of  American 
society  left  us  little  beyond  professional  memories  and  traditional 
phrases.  Until  the  rise  of  the  academic  law  school  and  the  recent 
revival  of  professional  feeling,  our  apprentice  system  has  done 
no  more  than  train  for  the  socially  least  important  side  of  the 
lawyer's  activities. 

When  we  reflect  upon  this  situation  we  cannot  wonder  at  the 
general  distrust  of  law  and  dissatisfaction  with  legal  institutions. 
We  cannot  wonder  that  the  thoughtful  layman  is  dissatisfied  with 
the  lawyer  and  the  thoughtful  lawyer  is  dissatisfied  with  himself. 


268  Indiana  University 

We  cannot  wonder  at  the  steady  rise  of  administrative  boards  and 
commissions,  at  the  revival  of  personal  government,  at  the  growth 
of  a  government  of  men  at  the  expense  of  a  government  of  laws 
which  has  been  going  forward  in  every  American  jurisdiction  for  a 
generation.  We  cannot  wonder  at  the  demand  for  the  packing  of 
courts  by  those  who  see  no  way  of  improving  the  law.  We  cannot 
wonder  at  the  vogue  of  projects  for  recall  of  judges,  for  recall  of 
judicial  decisions,  and  like  crude  and  wasteful  attempts  to  secure 
the  recognition  of  pressing  social  needs  which  those  best  qualified  to 
make  the  legal  system  a  living  instrument  of  justice  overlook  or 
ignore.  So  long  as  the  leaders  of  the  bar  do  nothing  to  make  the 
materials  of  our  legal  tradition  available  for  the  needs  of  the  twen- 
tieth century,  and  our  legislative  lawmakers,  more  zealous  than  well 
instructed  in  the  work  they  have  to  do,  continue  to  justify  the  words 
of  the  chronicler — "the  more  they  spake  of  law  the  more  they  did 
unlaw" — so  long  the  public  will  seek  refuge  in  specious  projects  of 
reforming  the  outward  machinery  of  our  legal  order  in  the  vain 
hope  of  curing  its  inward  spirit.  Some  years  ago,  when  it  was  the 
fashion  in  many  quarters  to  urge  the  recall  of  judicial  decisions,  I 
used  to  urge  as  a  substitute  the  recall  of  law  teachers.  For  the  real 
remedy,  the  enduring  remedy,  is  to  be  found  in  a  scientifically 
educated  profession,  a  profession  conscious  of  and  trained  to  face  the 
problems  of  the  legal  order  of  tomorrow,  a  profession  which  can 
furnish  safe  and  conscientious  client-caretakers,  but  has  a  higher 
conception  of  the  law  and  of  the  lawyer's  duty  than  is  needed  for 
mere  client-caretaking — the  enduring  remedy  is  in  a  profession  so 
educated,  from  which  to  recruit  judges  and  legislators  and  ad- 
ministrative officers. 

Institutions  of  learning  were  first  set  up  in  colonial  America  in 
order  to  provide  ministers  for  the  churches — the  prime  social  need 
of  that  time  and  place.  For  the  social  order  then  was  simple.  So- 
ciety was  homogeneous.  The  postulates  of  that  civilization  were 
ethical  only.  Today  the  social  order  is  complex.  Society  is  heter- 
ogeneous. The  postulates  of  our  civilization  are  not  merely  ethical ; 
they  are  legal,  economic,  medical,  mechanical,  perhaps  aesthetic,  as 
well.  None  of  these  may  be  left  to  purely  trade  or  professional 
development,  trusting  to  internal  competition  for  progress  and  to 
apprentice  methods  for  training. 

Surely  in  a  university — even  in  an  American  university  of  1920 — 
we  may  apply  other  standards  than  the  canon  of  pecuniary  reward 
or  the  canon  of  predatory  achievement.  But  the  teaching  profession 
has  been  so  discredited  by  the  current  application  of  these  standards 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  269 

that  law  teachers  have  hesitated  to  speak  out  before  the  so-called 
men  of  achievement.  And  yet  what  the  latter  have  achieved  for 
the  law,  when  measured  by  the  end  of  law,  is  sorry  enough  and  con- 
sists chiefly  in  a  steady  loss  of  ground  for  law,  to  the  profit  of  ad- 
ministration, thruout  the  English-speaking  world.  Now  it  is  precise- 
ly in  the  English-speaking  world  that  practical  training,  so  called, 
is  the  rule,  and  the  canons  of  pecuniary  reward  and  predatory 
achievement  are  the  measure  of  jurisitic  and  professional  success. 
If  the  legal  scholar  in  America  finds  himself  rated  low  by  these 
criteria,  he  may  ask  what  those  who  are  rated  high  thereby  may 
show  to  justify  the  standards.  Judged  by  their  fruits  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  justice,  by  their  fruits  in  the  form  and  content  of  our 
legal  system,  despite  the  limited  opportunities  of  the  scholar,  ham- 
pered by  professional  distrust  of  his  science  and  by  valuing  of  his 
opinions  by  the  amount  of  his  salary,  the  scholar  must  take  the 
first  place. 

Indeed,  the  man  of  action  deceives  himself  grossly  when  he 
assumes  that  he  and  he  only  is  in  touch  with  reality ;  that  he  and  he 
only  is  doing  the  things  that  count.  The  last  of  the  Caesars  has 
fallen,  but  the  thought  of  the  jurisconsults  of  the  days  of  the  first 
Caesar  is  law  in  half  of  the  world.  Nothing  remains  of  the  work  of 
the  men  of  action  of  antiquity,  but  the  thinking  of  Greek  phil- 
osophers rules  the  thinking  of  today  and  has  left  its  mark  upon  the 
action  of  all  time.  When  Diogenes  was  put  up  for  sale  as  a  slave, 
he  called  out  to  the  bidders,  "Who  buys  me  buys  a  master."  And 
so  it  proved.  For  Xeniades,  the  man  of  action,  is  known  for  nothing 
else  but  that  he  furnished  a  home  and  provided  a  livelihood  for  the 
eccentric  philosopher  who  was  his  slave.  As  beside  the  fleeting  re- 
sults of  competitive  and  predatory  exertion,  the  things  of  per- 
manence in  our  civilization  are  the  work  of  Hebrew  prophets  and 
Greek  philosophers  and  Roman  jurisconsults  and  mediaeval  monks 
and  modern  scientists.  The  men  who  achieved  fortunes  at  the  bar 
have  been  forgotten  and  what  they  did  has  proved  as  transient  as 
their  fortunes  while  the  work  of  Story  and  of  Kent  stands  fast. 
For  the  reality  is  human  civilization;  the  real  achievement  is  in 
maintaining  and  furthering  civilization.  Enduring  work  in  law  has 
been  done  by  those  who  saw  in  it  a  product  of  the  civilization  of  the 
past,  a  means  of  maintaining  the  civilization  of  today,  and  a  means 
of  furthering  the  civilization  of  tomorrow;  not  by  those  who  have 
used  it  in  the  competitive  struggles  of  the  moment.  It  was  not  by 
looking  on  law,  after  the  fashion  of  the  "practical"  man,  as  a  set  of 
formulas  ordained  at  the  creation  or  as  a  body  of  fixed  rules  devised 


270  Indiana  University 

by  inspired  or  all-wise  forefathers  or  as  a  series  of  enactments 
imposed  by  an  omnicompetent  lawgiver  of  yesterday  or  of  today, 
that  the  law  of  the  city  of  Rome  was  made  the  law  of  the  world; 
nor  will  our  law  maintain  itself  as  a  law  of  the  world  if  left  to  those 
who  so  regard  it.  In  all  ages  the  law  of  the  "practical"  lawyer  has 
been  an  illusion.  He  has  thought  of  fixed  rules,  of  mechanical 
application,  of  settled  postulates  and  a  perfect  logical  technique  of 
developing  them,  of  eternal  legal  principles  and  their  necessary 
implications,  of  a  closed  system  admitting  only  of  formal  improve- 
ment. The  reality  is  a  complex  and  ever-changing  legal  order  where- 
by values  are  conserved  and  human  wants  are  satisfied,  worked  out 
by  men  along  with  all  human  institutions  as  both  a  condition  and  a 
product  of  civilization  and  to  be  studied  and  taught  as  such.  Law 
has  not  been  made  by  the  dogmatic  formulas  of  the  books 
ground  out  to  order  for  law  publishers  for  "practical"  purposes,  but 
by  the  academic  lectures  of  Story  and  Greenleaf ;  it  is  not  making 
today  by  means  of  digests  or  encyclopedias,  but  thru  the  writings  of 
Wigmore  and  Williston.  Certainly  I  need  not  argue  in  this  presence 
that  the  state  is  educating  lawyers,  not  in  a  futile  attempt  to  preserve 
forever  the  status  quo  of  today,  not  to  train  money-making  lawyers, 
not  to  raise  up  sagacious  client-caretakers,  but  to  advance  justice — 
"the  greatest  interest  of  man  on  earth" — to  maintain,  to  hand  down, 
to  further  human  civilization. 

As  might  be  expected  in  a  purely  apprentice  system  of  training, 
the  first  legal  instruction  was  crudely  dogmatic.  Coke's  Commentary 
on  Littleton,  Serjeant  Williams'  Notes  to  Saunders'  Reports,  Cruise's 
Digest  of  the  Law  of  Real  Property  were  the  instruments  of  teaching, 
and  the  student  learned  the  law  as  a  body  of  rules  tempered  by  a 
series  of  maxims  and  a  few  rigid  principles  and  conceptions.  Night 
law  schools  and  schools  which  make  a  specialty  of  local  law  and 
practice  still  teach  for  the  most  part  in  this  spirit.  Later,  the  law 
schools  which  developed  in  connection  with  our  universities,  but  as 
outgrowths  of  teaching  in  lawyers'  offices,  gave  us  a  new  type  of 
common-law  textbook,  under  the  influence  of  the  treatises  of 
Continental  Europe.  The  Continental  treatises,  products  of  the 
philosophical  jurisprudence  of  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth 
centuries,  laid  chief  stress  upon  the  reasons  behind  legal  doctrines. 
Accordingly,  for  a  season,  pseudo-reasons  and  ex  post  facto  rational- 
izings  of  dogma  became  the  fashion  in  our  law  teaching.  Such 
things  are  still  relied  on  in  some  quarters  where  instruction  from 
textbooks  is  still  in  vogue.  The  English  analytical  and  English  and 
American  historical  jurisprudence  of  the  last  half  of  the  nineteenth 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  271 

century  long  ago  gave  a  death  blow  to  this  treating  of  authority  as 
embodied  reason  and  working  up  of  reasons  after  the  event  to  explain 
and  to  justify  it.  With  the  advent  of  these  methods,  instruction  in 
our  law  schools  became  truly  scientific  and  worthy  of  a  university. 
But  much  remains  to  be  done.  For  our  nineteenth-century  analytical 
and  historical  methods  do  no  more  than  criticize  the  law  from  within 
by  a  critique  drawn  from  the  law  itself.  In  a  period  of  stability 
when  formal  improvement  of  the  results  of  the  period  of  growth  in 
the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries  was  the  chief  juristic  need, 
these  methods  served  us  well.  Today,  in  a  new  period  of  growth, 
they  are  failing  us.  For  when  we  try  to  use  them  for  creative  work 
in  legal  science  our  task  is  like  that  of  Baron  Munchausen  in  pulling 
himself  out  of  the  swamp  by  his  long  whiskers.  In  jurisprudence,  as 
in  all  other  sciences,  we  are  turning  from  the  analytical  and  historical 
to  the  functional ;  we  are  asking  not  merely  what  things  are  and  how 
they  came  to  be  what  they  are,  but  what  they  do  and  how  and  to 
what  end  they  do  it.  Nowhere  is  this  modern  way  of  thinking  more 
fruitful  than  in  the  science  of  law. 

Instead  of  the  legal  interpretation  of  society  and  the  legal  order 
in  terms  of  a  social  contract,  or  the  ethical  interpretation  in  terms  of 
"rights",  or  the  metaphysical  interpretation  in  terms  of  deduction 
from  a  fundamental  formula,  or  the  biological  interpretation  in 
terms  of  a  huge  super-organism,  we  are  turning  to  a  functional  inter- 
pretation. We  are  thinking  of  the  legal  order  as  a  piece  of  social 
engineering,  as  a  human  attempt  to  conserve  values  and  eliminate 
friction  and  preclude  waste  in  the  process  of  satisfying  human  wants. 
If  we  look  to  physical  and  biological  science  to  augment  the  means 
of  satisfying  wants  as  well  as  to  conserve  them,  we  look  to  the  social 
sciences  to  teach  us  how  men  may  apply  them  to  their  purposes  with  a 
minimum  of  friction  and  waste.  Hence  the  jurist  must  think  of  a 
great  task,  or  rather  of  a  series  of  great  tasks,  of  social  engineering. 
For  his  problem  is  not  one  of  abstract  harmonizing  of  human  wills. 
It  is  one  of  concrete  securing  or  realizing  of  human  interests.  The 
central  tragedy  of  existence  is  that  there  are  not  enough  of  the 
material  goods  of  existence,  as  it  were,  to  go  round ;  that  while  in- 
dividual wants  are  infinite,  the  material  means  of  satisfying  those 
wants  are  finite;  that  while,  in  common  phrase,  we  all  want  the  earth, 
there  are  many  of  us  but  there  is  only  one  earth.  Thus  the  task  of 
the  legal  order  becomes  one  of  conserving  the  goods  of  existence  in 
order  to  make  them  go  as  far  as  possible,  of  preventing  friction  in 
the  use  of  them  and  waste  in  the  enjoyment  of  them,  so  that  where 
each  may  not  have  all  that  he  claims,  he  may  at  least  have  all  that 


272  Indiana  University 

is  possible.  But  this  functional  attitude  has  as  yet  made  little  im- 
pression on  the  teaching  of  Anglo-American  law.  Nor  will  it  do  so 
except  in  universities  where  law  is  taught,  not  in  the  way  of  com- 
mentaries on  authoritative  formulations  of  ultimate  reason,  but 
as  a  living  process  of  growth  and  adjustment. 

Nowhere  may  our  universities  do  more  for  civilization  than  in 
making  possible  a  rebirth  of  legal  science  as  they  have  already  re- 
made medical  science.  For  this  rebirth  is  possible  only  thru  legal 
education,  and  the  only  legal  education  that  can  bring  it  about 
must  be  had  in  universities.  The  future  of  our  academic  law  schools 
is  the  future  of  legal  education,  and  the  future  of  legal  education  in 
this  country  is  the  future  of  American  law.  Nay,  more.  Our 
Anglo-American  polity  is  so  characteristically,  so  completely  a  legal 
polity,  that  the  future  of  legal  education  is  nothing  less  than  the 
future  of  American  institutions. 


A  PRESENT  NEED  IN  AMERICAN 
PROFESSIONAL  EDUCATION 

Robert  Andrews  Millikan  was  born  at  Morrison,  Illinois,  on  March  22,  1868 
He  received  the  A.B.  degree  at  Oberlin  College  in  1891,  the  A.M.  in  1893,  and 
the  Ph.D.  at  Columbia  in  1895.  He  spent  the  year  1895-96  at  the  University  of 
Berlin  and  the  University  of  Goettingen.  The  honorary  degree  of  Sc.D.  was 
conferred  on  him  by  Oberlin  in  1911,  Northwestern  University  in  1913,  the  Uni- 
versity of  Pennsylvania  in  1915,  Columbia  University  in  1917,  and 
Amherst  College  in  1917.  Mr.  Millikan's  teaching  career  began  at  Oberlin 
College  in  1891,  where  he  was  tutor  in  physics,  in  which  capacity  he  serv- 
ed for  two  years.  In  1896  he  became  assistant  in  physics  at  the  Univer- 
sity of  Chicago,  associate  in  1897,  instructor  in  1899,  assistant  professor  in  1902, 
associate  professor  in  1907,  professor  in  1910.  Professor  Millikan  was  awarded 
the  Comstock  prize  for  research  in  electricity  by  the  National  Academy  of  Sci- 
ences in  1913.  In  1916  he  was  Clarke  lecturer  at  Amherst.  In  1917  he  was 
Hitchcock  lecturer  at  the  University  of  California,  and  was  elected  vice-chairman 
of  the  National  Research  Council,  Washington.  The  same  year  he  was  commis- 
sioned lieutenant-colonel  in  the  Signal  Corps,  United  States  Reserves,  and  chief 
of  the  Science  and  Research  Division  of  the  Signal  Corps.  He  has  served  as  a 
trustee  of  Oberlin  College  since  1917.  Among  the  organizations  and  societies  of 
which  he  is  a  member  are  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences  (Fellow, 
1914),  American  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Science  (vice-president, 
1911),  National  Academy  of  Science,  American  Philosophical  Society,  American 
Physical  Society  (member  of  the  executive  council,  1905-9;  since  1911;  president 
1915-17),  Sigma  Xi,  and  Phi  Beta  Kappa.  He  was  made,  in  1919,  a  corresponding 
member  of  La  Societe  Batave  de  Philosophic  Experimentale  a  Rotterdam,  and 
honorary  member  of  the  Royal  Institution  of  Great  Britain.  During  the  present 
year  he  is  American  representative  on  the  International  Solvay  Congress,  Brus- 
sels. He  was  associate  editor  of  Physical  Review  from  1903  to  1916;  joint  editor 
of  the  University  of  Chicago  Science  Series  in  1915;  and  has  since  1915  been 
associate  editor  of  the  Proceedings  of  the  National  Academy  of  Sciences.  His 
writings  include:  A  College  Course  of  Laboratory  Experiments  in  Physics,  The 
Theory  of  Optics  (translated  from  the  German),  Mechanics,  Molecular  Physics  and 
Heal,  A  First  Course  in  Physics,  A  Laboratory  Course  in  Physics  for  Secondary 
Schools,  Electricity,  Sound  and  Light,  TJie  Electron,  Practical  Physics,  two  chapters 
in  The  New  World  of  Science,  and  more  than  sixty  articles  in  technical  scientific 
journals.  Professor  Millikan  was  the  first  to  succeed  in  isolating  an  electron. 


(273) 


A  PRESENT  NEED  IN  AMERICAN 
PROFESSIONAL  EDUCATION 

By  ROBERT  ANDREWS  MILLIKAN 

I  WISH  to  present  in  the  briefest  possible  compass  what,  from  my 
point  of  view,  is  the  outstanding  deficiency  in  technical  and  en- 
gineering education  in  the  United  States.  The  undertaking  may 
seem  a  bit  presumptuous  in  a  man  who  has  spent  his  life  in  the 
pursuit  of  pure  science,  and  who  is  today  connected  with  an 
institution  which  has  no  engineering  school.  I  have  myself  taken, 
however,  a  considerable  part  of  the  engineering-school  course;  I 
have  been  thrown  in  my  work  into  the  closest  contact  with  the  en- 
gineering societies  and  with  the  most  prominent  men  in  the  en- 
gineering profession;  I  have  been  a  close  student  of  several  types 
of  technical  developments  in  the  United  States,  and  I  had  excep- 
tional opportunity,  during  the  recent  war,  to  see  the  results  of  our 
scientific  and  technical  efforts,  when  we  were  called  upon  to  ex- 
ert ourselves  to  the  utmost  and  to  get  results  in  the  shortest  pos- 
sible time.  Permit  me  first  to  present  a  few  concrete  illustrations  of 
the  results  of  these  experiences. 

It  is  to  the  eternal  credit  of  the  United  States  that  the  two 
most  significant  and  important  advances  of  the  last  half-century 
in  scientific  and  technical  lines  have  had  their  inception  in  this 
country.  The  conquest  of  the  air  by  man  after  centuries  of  failure 
is  due  almost  entirely  to  Americans.  The  names  of  Wright,  Chanute, 
and  Langley,  the  three  most  potent  names  in  the  history  of  this 
achievement,  are  all,  I  am  proud  to  say,  American  names. 

Again  the  science  and  art  of  the  electrical  transmission  of 
speech  has  been  an  American  product.  There  is  scarcely  a  foreign 
thread  in  the  whole  fabric  of  its  development.  Bell  and  Grey,  the 
original  discoverers,  were  both  Americans.  The  big  advance  made 
by  Pupin  in  the  introduction  of  the  loaded  line  is  the  result  of 
work  done  in  an  American  university,  and  the  immense  advance 
which  has  recently  been  made  in  the  development  and  use  of  vacuum 
tube  repeaters  and  amplifiers,  which  are  now  finding  applications 
in  an  extraordinary  number  of  commercial  fields,  is  wholly  an 
American  achievement.  Of  these  things  we  may  be  extravagantly 
proud. 

(275) 


276  Indiana  University 

Now  look  into  the  other  side  of  the  picture.  Despite  the 
fact  that  the  conquest  of  the  air  was  first  achieved  in  this  country, 
when  the  war  broke  out,  we  were  so  far  behind  France,  England, 
and  Germany  in  the  development  of  the  art  of  aviation  that  we 
couldn't  see  their  dust.  During  the  war  (barring  the  development 
of  the  Liberty  motor — a  credit  to  America)  we  attempted  to  do 
nothing  in  aviation  except  to  copy  British,  French,  and  Italian 
planes.  Why?  Because  these  nations  had  so  much  better  planes 
than  we  had  produced,  or  could  hope  to  produce  in  quick  time, 
that  the  only  wise  course  was  to  copy  foreign  makes.  But  why  had 
we  not  already  produced  equally  good  ones?  Because  the  American 
public  had  not  had  a  sufficient  appreciation  of  the  possibilities  and 
the  needs  of  this  sort  of  scientific  work  to  adequately  support  it, 
and  because  we  had  not  in  this  country  developed  a  sufficient 
number  of  men  of  outstanding  ability  in  this  field  to  enable  us  to 
keep  neck  and  neck  with  our  European  competitors. 

The  story  of  the  application  of  the  vacuum  tube  to  the  purposes 
of  the  war  is  remarkably  similar.  We  thought  we  led  the  world  in 
this  field,  but  the  special  commissioner  whom  General  Squier  sent 
to  Europe  to  study  European  developments  in  signaling  came  back 
and  reported  that  the  British  and  French  had  greatly  outdistanced 
us  in  applying  these  newer  developments  to  the  purposes  of  the  war. 
A  high  official  in  the  company  which  was  itself  responsible  for  the 
original  application  of  vacuum  tubes  to  telephony  corroborated  to 
me  this  statement,  and  at  the  meeting  of  the  Physical  Society  in 
Chicago  in  November  one  of  the  most  prominent  of  our  own  radio- 
engineers  declared,  "I  take  off  my  hat  to  the  young  British  radio- 
engineer." 

The  same  sort  of  a  story  comes  from  many  other  fields  of  activity. 
I  was  recently  standing  with  a  prominent  American  chemist  who 
was  on  the  front  in  a  responsible  post  in  the  American  Chemical 
Warfare  Service.  He  showed  me  a  German  gas  mask  with  the 
remark,  "I  want  you  to  see  the  best  gas  mask  which  was  developed 
during  the  war."  "Why",  said  I,  "my  chemical  friends  told  me 
that  the  American  mask  was  superior  to  all  others."  Said  he: 
"It  was  beyond  all  question  the  poorest  mask  which  actually  was 
in  use  at  the  front,  in  absorbing  power  for  the  gas  which  it  was 
called  upon  to  protect  against.  The  quantitative  tests  of  the  re- 
search department  of  the  Chemical  Warfare  Service  of  the  A.E.F. 
showed  the  various  masks  to  run  somewhat  like  this:  German  100, 
English  70,  French  40,  American  10  or  15." 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  277 

Now  let  us  frankly  admit  the  possible  unrepresentative  charac- 
ter of  the  foregoing  showings  because  of  the  tremendous  stimulus  of 
immediate  and  dire  necessity  under  which  our  European  friends 
worked,  in  contrast  with  our  own  remoteness  from  the  scene  of 
conflict,  and  let  us  make  a  comparison  which  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  war. 

Will  anyone  who  knows  anything  about  the  situation  for  a 
moment  claim  that  when  we  count  up  the  world's  outstanding  men 
in  scientific  and  technical  lines  the  number  of  American  names  in 
comparison  with  those  belonging  to  England,  France,  and  Germany 
is  in  any  way  proportionate  to  our  population?  Certainly  not  in  my 
own  field.  Here  we  cannot  show  more  than  a  half  or  a  third  of  our 
proper  proportion.  In  the  field  of  chemistry  one  would  scarcely 
think  of  comparing  the  group  of  men  whom  we  have  produced  during 
the  past  thirty  years  with  those  who  have  honored  Germany,  and  I 
suspect  that  physics  and  chemistry  are  fairly  representative  of  most 
of  the  sciences.  To  what  then  is  the  deficiency  due? 

I  do  not  think  that  it  is  due  to  a  lack  in  the  native  capacity  of 
men  born  on  American  soil,  and  I  have  a  little  evidence  upon  this 
point  which  I  should  like  to  present.  During  the  past  thirty  years 
we  have  had  opportunity  in  the  graduate  work  at  the  University  of 
Chicago  to  compare  the  students  who  come  to  this  department 
from  all  over  the  United  States  and  from  Canada.  Now  the  popu- 
lation of  Canada  is  exceedingly  similar  to  that  of  certain  portions 
of  our  own  country.  But  we  have  learned  to  expect  an  exceptional 
man  when  we  get  an  honor  student  from  Toronto  or  McGill.  In  a 
word,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  British  honor  system  has  had  a  greater 
success  in  one  particular  than  has  our  own  educational  system, 
namely  in  selecting  and  giving  exceptional  training  to  the  exceptional 
man.  Our  great  public  educational  system  has  done  one  thing 
which  is  immensely  vital  to  progress;  it  has  raised  the  average 
intelligence  of  our  people  to  a  very  high  level.  But  it  is  even  more 
vital  to  progress  to  select  and  to  train  leaders  intensively,  for  is  it 
not  her  Newtons  and  her  Faradays  and  her  Maxwells  who  have 
made  England  what  she  is? 

I  would  not  detract  from  our  public  educational  system,  but 
I  think  attention  must  be  directed  to  the  task  of  superposing  upon 
it  something  which  it  now  lacks,  and  which  European  educational 
systems  do  not  lack  in  any  such  degree. 

Particularly  in  engineering  education  have  we  focussed  atten- 
tion upon  quantity  rather  than  quality.  Unlike  law  and  medicine, 
the  standard  engineering  course  has  remained  a  four-year  course 


278  Indiana  University 

instead  of  a  six-  or  a  seven-year  course.  Again,  the  teaching  of  the 
details  of  industrial  operations  has  crowded  out  to  an  ever-increasing 
extent  thoro  training  in  the  fundamentals,  that  is,  in  mathematics, 
in  physics,  and  in  chemistry.  The  old  four-year  engineering  course 
may  do  for  the  routine  operating  engineer,  but  it  will  not  do  for 
the  creative  engineer.  If  he  is  to  compete  on  equal  terms  with  his 
British,  French,  or  German  comrade,  he  must  get,  in  his  under- 
graduate course,  a  more  thoro  training  than  he  now  gets,  primarily 
in  mathematics  and  secondarily  in  physics  and  chemistry,  and  he 
must  then  do  Ph.D  work  in  a  university,  or  else  he  must  get  the 
equivalent  training  thru  additions  made  to  the  curriculum  of  the 
technical  school.  Perhaps  the  former  is  the  better  solution;  but  in 
any  case  if  we  are  to  keep  our  place  in  the  forefront  of  the  nations, 
it  is  imperative  that  we  find  a  better  way  than  we  seem  to  have  yet 
discovered  for  selecting  and  intensively  training  men  who  have  the 
capacity  to  become  the  world's  leaders  in  science  and  its  applica- 
tions to  industry,  for  if  anything  has  been  demonstrated  by  the 
history  of  the  last  hundred  years  it  is  that  that  nation  which  is  fore- 
most in  ferreting  out  nature's  secrets  and  in  applying  them  to  her 
industry  and  her  commerce  will  be  the  world's  leader  and  teacher 
in  practically  all  lines  of  human  effort.  The  problem  which  Dean 
Pound  has  just  referred  to  as  the  age-long  problem  of  mankind, 
namely  that  of  finding  how  to  make  the  world's  goods  go  around, 
despite  its  great  importance,  is  not  the  most  vital  of  our  modern 
problems.  It  is  another  problem  which  must  command  at  least  some 
of  the  finest  brains  which  this  world  can  produce,  a  problem  which, 
with  suitable  selection  of  brains  and  suitable  training,  the  scientist 
and  the  engineer  together  will  solve.  It  is  the  problem  of  the 
creation  of  enough  to  go  around.  The  total  possibilities  of  improve- 
ment by  finding  some  new  mode  of  distribution  are  exceedingly 
limited,  while  the  possibilities  in  the  matter  of  creation  of  new 
wealth  are  well  nigh  infinite  and  no  price  is  too  much  to  pay  for 
the  selection  and  the  training  of  the  men  who  have  the  capacity  to 
realize  them. 

So  far  our  immense  supply  of  easily  accessible  wealth  has  made 
us  the  most  prosperous  and  the  happiest  country  in  the  world. 
We  were  producing  before  the  war  from  two  to  five  times  as  much 
per  man-hour  in  practically  all  lines  of  industry  as  were  European 
nations,  and  the  common  man,  the  unskilled  laborer  in  this  country, 
was  receiving  from  two  to  five  times  as  much  for  his  labor  in  actual 
purchasing  power.  The  parallelism  in  the  figures  is  not  accidental. 
We  had  no  better  mode  of  distribution  of  wealth  than  had  other 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  279 

countries.  Our  labor  received  more  because  it  produced  more,  and 
in  just  about  the  proportion  in  which  it  produced  more.  The  inequal- 
ities in  distribution  are  glaring  enough  and  they  need  remedying, 
but  they  are  of  very  much  less  general  significance  than  they  seem 
to  be  to  the  superficial  observer.  If  we  are  to  maintain  our  pros- 
perity and  increase  it,  there  is  in  the  long  run  but  one  way  in  which 
we  can  do  it,  namely  by  maintaining  and  increasing  our  production. 
But  our  easily  accessible  wealth,  our  timber,  our  surface  coal, 
our  oil,  our  most  accessible  iron  and  copper  are  disappearing. 
There  is  but  one  way  in  which  our  prosperity  may  be  maintained, 
namely,  by  growing  the  brains  which  can  devise  new  processes,  dis- 
cover new  sources  of  energy,  make  the  desert  a  garden,  conserve 
human  life,  and  teach  the  rational  control  of  population.  These 
results  cannot  be  brought  about  by  superficial  scientific  and  en- 
gineering education.  Such  problems  require  the  most  careful 
selection  and  the  most  thoro  training  of  our  creative  men  which 
we  can  devise.  The  big  need  in  American  professional  education 
today  is  for  a  better  means  than  we  now  have  of  selecting  and  training 
the  exceptional  man. 


SPIRITUAL  FRONTIERSMEN 


Francis  John  McConnell  was  born  at  Trinway,  Ohio,  on  August  18,  1871. 
He  received  a  bachelor  of  arts  degree  at  Ohio  Wesleyan  in  1894,  the  bachelor  of 
sacred  theology  degree  at  Boston  University  in  1897,  and  the  doctor  of  philosophy 
degree,  Boston  University,  in  1899.  Ohio  Wesleyan  conferred  the  D.D.  degree 
on  him  in  1905;  Hanover  College  the  LL.D.,  and  Wesleyan  University  (Middle- 
town,  Connecticut)  the  LL.D.,  in  1909.  He  entered  the  ministry  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church  in  1894  as  pastor  at  West  Chelmsford,  Mass.,  where  he  remained 
for  three  years,  going  in  1897  to  Newton  Upper  Falls,  Mass.  Later  pastorates 
included  Ipswich,  Mass.,  1899-1902;  Harvard  Street,  Cambridge,  Mass.,  1902- 
3;  New  York  Avenue,  Brooklyn,  1903-9.  In  the  latter  year  he  became  presi- 
dent of  DePauw  University  and  in  1912  he  was  elected  a  bishop  in 
the  Methodist  church.  His  writings  include  the  Divine  Immanence,  Religious 
Certainty,  Christian  Focus,  The  Increase  of  Faith,  Personal  Christianity,  Under- 
standing the  Scriptures,  Democratic  Christianity,  and  Public  Opinion  and  Theology. 
Bishop  McConnell  was  president  of  the  Religious  Education  Association  in  1916. 


(281) 


SPIRITUAL  FRONTIERSMEN 

By  FRANCIS  JOHN  MCCONNELL 

THE  MEN  who  founded  this  university  may  in  a  real  sense 
be  called  spiritual  frontiersmen.  It  is  the  merest  commonplace,  of 
course,  that  the  institution  was  founded  upon  the  frontier  at  a  time 
when  there  was  hardly  anything  to  suggest  the  possibility  of  material 
wealth  of  civilization  which  has  more  recently  appeared.  The  more 
we  know  of  the  old  frontier  conditions,  the  more  we  realize  their  inde- 
scribable hardness.  The  battle  with  the  forest  and  the  swamp  was  so 
intense  that  the  spiritual  values  were  likely  to  be  left  to  one  side, 
not  by  choice,  but  by  the  inexorable  working  of  a  desperate  fate.  We 
make  much  of  the  democracy  of  the  frontier,  but  that  democracy 
was  extremely  individualistic.  The  motto  had  to  be,  Everyone  for 
himself  and  the  devil  take  the  hindmost.  To  prevent  the  stern  con- 
ditions of  life  from  killing  off  the  nobler  capacities  of  human  nature, 
and  to  encourage  reflection  upon  the  humaner  and  finer  aspects  of 
life,  the  founders  of  universities  like  this  gave  themselves  to  an 
earnest  endeavor  to  keep  alive  in  frontier  conditions  an  interest  in 
the  human  ideals  of  the  finer  spiritual  quality. 

The  old  type  of  frontier  has  passed  away.  Not  for  thirty 
years  in  our  country  has  it  been  possible  to  acquire  new  land  just  by 
moving  west  and  taking  physical  possession  of  the  land.  The  tides 
of  the  frontier  migratory  movement  of  the  old  sort  have  come  to  a 
full  stop.  Processes  of  social  sedimentation  are  taking  place,  and 
the  problems  of  the  frontier  are  not  those  of  the  conquest  of  forests 
and  swamps.  There  are  frontier  conditions,  however,  and  in  those 
conditions  the  struggle  is  just  as  fierce  as  ever.  Everyone  knows 
that  upon  a  frontier  which  lacked  educational  and  spiritual  re-en- 
forcement the  law  of  stern  might  soon  gained  sway.  The  "bad  man" 
of  the  early  days  of  the  West  stormed  thru  his  boisterous  career 
simply  because  he  knew  nothing  but  the  rough  conditions  of  the 
pioneer  life.  The  frontiers  today  are  not  in  the  forest,  but  in  indus- 
try, and  in  the  realm  of  international  relationships,  and  in  the  field 
of  racial  contacts. 

We  say  that  there  are  frontier  conditions  in  these  spheres 
because  the  spheres  are  not  yet  conquered  by  civilizing — to  say 
nothing  of  Christianizing — forces.  Men  are  finding  their  way  along 

(283) 


284  Indiana  University 

as  best  they  can,  and  too  often  success  goes  to  him  of  greatest  brute 
force.  The  alignment  of  classes  in  industry  is  a  new  problem ;  so 
also  is  the  field  of  international  adjustment;  and  racial  relationships 
are  in  the  most  rudimentary  stage. 

One  of  the  great  opportunities  before  educational  leaders  today 
is  that  of  holding  on  high  the  human  ideals  before  the  contestants 
in  the  industrial  struggle.  I  am  not  advocating  any  social  panacea 
as  a  solvent  for  industrial  unrest.  It  is  absolutely  necessary, 
however,  to  bring  the  three  parties  in  any  industrial  situation — 
namely,  the  employers,  and  the  employed,  and  the  general  public — 
to  see  that  no  system  ought  to  expect  the  support  of  the  educated 
man  if  that  system  does  not  keep  the  human  values  on  high.  The 
most  important  question  to  be  asked  of  an  industry  is  as  to  the  kind 
of  man  it  turns  out.  The  most  important  question  to  be  asked  of  an 
organization  of  workers  concerns  the  quality  of  the  human  character 
fostered  by  the  organization.  The  most  important  question  to  be 
asked  about  the  attitude  of  the  general  public  at  a  time  of  industrial 
crisis  is  whether  that  general  public  thinks  most  of  its  own  con- 
venience or  of  the  welfare  of  the  men  engaged  in  the  industry.  The 
one  temptation  of  all  parties  in  an  industrial  strife  is  that  of  getting 
away  from  the  simple,  human  considerations. 

Of  these  three  parties  it  must  today  be  said  in  all  fairness  that 
the  workers  themselves,  mistaken  as  they  may  now  and  again  be 
in  calling  strikes,  and  in  conducting  strikes,  have  the  keener  sense 
of  the  human  values.  Capitalism  is  notoriously  dull  in  this  respect. 
In  the  great  steel  strike  of  last  year  a  worker  protested  that  he  was 
striking  for  a  chance  to  get  acquainted  with  his  twelve-year-old 
daughter.  He  insisted  that  within  a  few  weeks  he  had  buried  a 
daughter  of  fourteen  years.  As  he  stood  by  her  grave  the  bitterest 
reflection  was  that  he  had  not  known  his  daughter.  The  twelve- 
hour  day  and  the  twenty-four  hour  shift  had  so  worked  that  it  had 
been  impossible  for  him  to  become  acquainted  with  her.  He  was 
striking,  he  said,  for  an  eight-hour  day  in  order  that  he  might  be- 
come acquainted  with  his  other  child.  When  this  case  was  reported 
to  a  steel  magnate,  he  replied,  "The  case  is  very  exceptional",  but 
with  fifty-two  per  cent  of  the  men  in  his  entire  industry  on  the 
twelve-hour  basis  the  only  exceptional  feature  in  the  incident  was 
the  fact  that  this  man's  fourteen-year-old  child  died  and  was  buried 
on  a  particular  day.  As  for  the  general  public,  its  thought  is  so 
much  of  its  own  convenience  that  nothing  else  weighs  very  heavily. 
The  outlook  is  dark,  not  because  the  problems  are  intellectually 
insoluble,  but  because  it  is  so  hard  to  get  the  masses  of  the  people, 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  285 

out  of  whose  thought  the  great  movements  of  public  opinion  come, 
to  see  the  problem  in  its  simpler,  more  human  elements.  If  our 
forefathers  sacrificed  to  the  utmost  to  found  institutions  in  which 
the  rigors  of  a  frontier  condition  could  be  ennobled  by  the  virtues 
which  are  essentially  human,  we,  the  descendants  of  those  old-time 
pioneers,  can  well  give  ourselves  to  most  earnest  endeavor  to  bring 
into  the  struggles  of  today — just  as  desperate  as  those  of  the  fron- 
tier— the  same  regard  for  the  lofty  spiritual  ideals. 

The  second  frontier  field  is  that  of  the  international  rela- 
tionships. It  is  not  cynicism,  but  sober  fact,  to  say  that,  apart 
from  the  efforts  of  individual  statesmen  here  and  there,  no  serious 
attempt  has  ever  been  made  to  organize  on  a  large  scale  a  public 
opinion  which  would  attempt  to  deal  with  international  questions 
in  a  distinctively  human  fashion.  In  spite  of  nineteen  centuries 
of  progress,  Christianity  itself  has  never  yet  reached  a  state  where 
as  a  matter  of  actual  fact  it  could  be  depended  upon  to  prevent 
war.  To  say  that  Christianity  has  never  been  tried  on  a  large  scale 
of  international  relationships  is  to  concede  the  whole  point  at  issue. 
We  have  not  yet  got  beyond  a  comparatively  narrow  limit  of  strictly 
personal  relationship  as  comprising  the  essential  ethics  of  Christi- 
anity. With  7,500,000  of  the  best  of  the  young  men  "battle-dead" 
since  July,  1914,  with  the  nations  of  the  earth  at  this  moment  in 
fearful  competition  to  find  deadlier  gases  and  bombing  machines,  we 
need  not  dwell  much  on  the  unrationalized  and  unmoralized  condi- 
tion of  the  field  of  internationalism.  Now  the  way  out  is  not  so 
much  by  the  codification  of  international  laws,  or  by  the  perfection 
of  the  technique  of  diplomacy,  as  by  emphasis  on  a  few  fundamentals 
which  any  educated  man  of  normally  Christian  ideals  recognizes  at 
once.  For  example,  there  is  no  contradiction  in  private  life  between 
a  man's  respect  for  himself  and  his  respect  for  his  neighbor, — no  con- 
tradiction between  a  man's  love  for  his  own  family  and  his  regard  for 
other  families.  Is  it  not  preposterous  that  as  soon  as  we  approach 
the  realm  of  international  contacts,  whole-hearted  respect  for  the 
rights  and  virtues  of  other  nations  should  seem  to  be  an  enfeeble- 
ment  or  an  impairment  of  one's  patriotic  regard  for  one's  own 
country?  Is  any  one  nation  the  only  one  that  can  have  a  manifest 
destiny?  Are  not  all  the  nations  called  each  of  them  to  distinctive 
excellence  of  development  at  the  same  time  that  they  dwell  in 
perfect  peace  with  one  another?  Is  the  survival  of  type  that  comes 
as  nations  cooperate  with  one  another  in  friendly  tasks  any  less 
significant  than  the  survival  that  comes  as  the  nations  leap  at  one 
another's  throats?  The  survival  of  the  fittest  between  warring 


286  Indiana  University 

nations  can  only  mean  that  large  numbers  of  the  most  fit  in  each 
and  every  nation  are  killed  off,  leaving  any  forward  movement  of  the 
surviving  groups  to  be  carried  on  by  those  who  survive  not  because 
they  have  superior  might,  but  because  they  have  not  been  strong 
enough  to  be  sent  forward  to  the  fighting  line. 

We  are  all  deeply  concerned  as  to  the  possibility  of  the  or- 
ganization of  a  league  of  nations.  I  am  talking,  however,  of  some- 
thing deeper.  I  am  thinking  of  the  spirit  with  which  the  various 
nations  take  their  seats  around  the  council  table.  Suppose  they  come 
with  guns  in  their  hands,  or  suppose  they  come  equipped  with  the 
old-fashioned  sinister  diplomacy,- — of  what  value  will  the  league  of 
nations  be?  Of  what  use  will  the  league  of  nations  be,  founded  upon 
a  world  system  of  competitive  imperialism?  The  question  answers 
itself.  The  only  remedy  is  to  see  the  problem  in  its  human  terms. 
We  are  dealing  not  with  mere  abstract  masses,  or  with  nations  as 
such,  or  with  markets.  We  are  dealing  with  men,  women,  and 
children.  As  long  as  statesmanship  refuses  to  think  of  the  problem 
in  these  human  elements,  our  sorrows  will  abound.  The  great  uni- 
versities of  the  world  have  all  been  founded  not  with  the  idea  of 
merely  putting  better  instruments  into  the  hands  of  the  rising 
generation,  but  with  the  purpose  of  teaching  the  rising  generation 
the  spirit  in  which  any  and  all  instruments  of  civilization  are  to 
be  used.  This  is  the  only  way  out, — to  see  the  worth  of  men  as  men, 
and  to  stand  against  any  sort  of  industrial  or  political  doctrine  that 
would  treat  men  as  other  than  men.  We  abhor  an  industrial  system 
which  in  any  way  robs  men  of  the  distinct  values  of  their  own  per- 
sonal life.  We  object  to  hearing  men  spoken  of  as  a  labor  market, 
and  we  do  not  like  to  hear  them  referred  to  as  "hands".  Much  more 
do  we  object  to  seeing  national  imperialistic  policies  founded  on 
calculations  of  man-power  available  for  use  in  warfare.  The  curse 
of  war  is  that,  whether  we  speak  of  men  as  cannon-fodder  or  not, 
we  think  of  them  in  war  not  as  fathers  or  sons  or  brothers  or  neigh- 
bors, or  even  as  separate  persons.  They  inevitably  become  parts  of 
a  machine.  If  anything  suggestive  of  quick  and  vigorous  personality 
survives,  the  survival  is  in  spite  of  the  machine  and  not  because  of 
it.  I  am  not  a  pacifist.  I  would  vote  for  any  war  which  might  seem 
to  be  really  righteous.  And  yet  even  in  such  case  the  simple  fact 
would  be  that  war  is  a  materializing,  vulgarizing,  and  brutalizing 
business. 

The  third  pioneer  field  is  that  of  the  realm  of  racial  con- 
tacts. It  is  possible  that  enough  of  humane  spirit  may  soon  come  to 
the  leading  nations  of  Christendom  to  prevent  their  attacking  one 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  287 

another  in  war.  A  still  greater  triumph — one  which  seems  at  present 
far  distant — would  be  such  a  conquest  of  racial  prejudice  and  such 
mastery  of  the  tendencies  to  consciousness  of  racial  superiority  as 
to  prevent  clashes  between  the  peoples  of  different  color,  or  between 
the  so-called  more  favored  nations  and  the  so-called  less  favored 
nations.  Even  if  we  could  bring  the  nations  which  we  now  speak  of 
as  Christian  into  a  real  spirit  of  brotherhood — and  this  brotherhood 
could  find  outward  expression  in  a  satisfactory  organization — we 
would  still  have  left  the  problem  of  the  relation  of  these  nations 
to  the  nations  which  we  call  non-Christian.  With  a  consciousness 
of  racial  superiority  there  almost  always  goes  something  of  the  spirit 
of  the  bully — the  bully  being  none  the  less  a  bully  because  he 
cloaks  his  bullyings  in  pious  phrases,  and  makes  much  of  the  good 
he  is  doing  to  those  whom  he  bullies.  The  contact  of  the  so-called 
Christian  nations  with  the  so-called  non-Christian  nations  has  thus 
far  been  one  long  horror,  with  only  a  few  bright  spots  here  and  there 
to  suggest  any  sort  of  mitigation.  He  would  be  a  superficial  stud- 
dent  of  history  who  would  say  that  even  the  course  of  the  Spanish 
conquerors  in  the  West  Indies,  for  example,  had  been  one  of  deliber- 
ate cruelty.  Always  was  there  the  mixture  of  motives.  The  tragedy 
is  that  such  motives  as  that  of  personal  and  national  gain  on  the  one 
hand,  and  that  of  devotion  to  the  church  and  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
on  the  other,  could  ever  have  been  brought  to  mix.  We  are  dealing 
here  with  one  of  those  fundamental  problems  of  human  nature  with 
which  only  trained  Christianity  can  adequately  cope.  We  need  a 
revival  of  religion  which  will  not  only  quicken  the  inner  fires,  but 
will  spread  those  fires  to  a  class  of  problems  which  we  have  too  often 
thought  of  as  lying  outside  of  Christianity.  If  moral  progress  con- 
sists partly  in  bringing  more  and  more  persons  within  the  realm  of 
our  obligations,  Christian  internationalism  also  consists  in  bringing 
more  and  more  nations  within  the  realm  of  the  possible  application 
of  Christian  principles. 

One  lesson  which  the  war  has  taught  us  has  not  yet  been  suf- 
ficiently emphasized,  namely,  the  fact  that  many  nations  outside 
of  what  we  call  civilization  have  measured  up  to  our  standards  of 
conduct  and  character  quite  as  excellently  as  have  we  ourselves. 
The  ideals  of  the  soldier's  life  may  not  of  themselves  be  the  best, 
but  within  the  past  five  years  we  have  greatly  exalted  these  ideals. 
Judged  by  these  ideals  of  unflinching  courage  in  the  midst  of  per- 
sonal danger,  unyielding  pertinacity  in  the  midst  of  long  strains 
upon  vitality,  unconquerable  optimism  in  drudgery,  the  so-called 
non-Christian  peoples  have  been  just  as  worthy  as  ourselves.  Black 


288  Indiana  University 

men  from  equatorial  Africa  have  proved  themselves  just  as  good  as 
white  men  from  France.  Yellow  men  from  China,  and  Hindus  from 
India,  and  negroes  from  the  southern  states  of  America,  have  met 
the  supreme  tests  with  just  as  much  credit  to  themselves  as  have 
white  men  from  England  and  the  United  States. 

At  one  of  the  darkest  moments  of  the  war,  in  the  spring  of  1918, 
I  was  much  struck  by  an  incident  related  to  me  by  a  worker  on 
the  western  front  in  France.  Asked  what  was  the  bravest  single  feat 
of  the  war,  one  who  had  been  for  four  years  upon  the  English  battle 
line  replied :  "The  bravest  thing  I  personally  know  of  was  the  exploit 
of  a  Hindu  in  carrying  to  the  fear  the  body  of  an  English  officer 
killed  in  No  Man's  Land.  The  Hindu  placed  himself  at  the  side  of  an 
Englishman  just  as  the  Englishman  was  about  to  lead  his  troops  over 
the  top  on  a  raid.  Ordered  to  go  back,  the  Hindu  said:  'I  cannot  go 
back,  and  be  a  true  Hindu ;  the  law  of  the  Hindu  is  that  a  Hindu  must 
stand  at  the  side  of  anyone  who  has  aided  his  family  when  that  bene- 
factor is  in  danger,  to  render  any  possible  service  in  case  of  injury 
or  death.  In  the  old  days  in  India  this  officer's  family  befriended 
mine.  I  shall  go  over  the  top  with  him,  in  obedience  to  the  Hindu 
law.'  And  over  the  top  went  the  Hindu  with  the  Englishman, 
and  back  thru  the  trenches  he  carried  the  dead  body  of  the  English- 
man a  few  minutes  later."  The  Tommies  who  saw  it  all  commented 
on  it  in  this  sententious  fashion:  "Pretty  good  human  stuff, — that 
Hindu." 

Pretty  good  human  stuff!  That  must  be  said  of  all  the  so-called 
less  favored  peoples,  if  they  have  any  chance  at  all.  Pretty  good 
human  stuff!  That  means  that  the  emphasis  has  to  be  less  upon 
rubber  and  upon  oil  fields  and  coal  deposits,  and  more  upon  fair 
dealing  with  the  human  stuff.  It  may  be  that  the  Hindus,  who  to  the 
number  of  over  a  million  fought  on  the  western  front,  have  not  yet 
arrived  at  the  state  of  fitness  for  democracy.  It  is  perfectly  cer- 
tain, however,  that  they  have  gone  beyond  the  stage  of  any  legiti- 
mate exploitation.  They  were  never  intended  for  exploitation.  The 
message  of  any  enlightejned  a'nd  Christian  education  is  that  a  worthy 
spiritual  ideal  will  always  look  upon  men  in  whatever  nation  as  men, 
and  will  look  upon  the  more  favored  nations  as  trustees  of  civiliza- 
tion, the  civilization  to  be  used  to  the  uplift  of  the  less  favored. 

Let  us  not  deceive  ourselves.  Nothing  but  the  holding  on 
high  of  the  spiritual  and  human  ideals  will  ever  solve  the  problem 
that  confronts  us.  The  only  way  to  counteract  the  earthward  pull  of 
the  downward  tendencies  of  industrial  and  national  and  racial  selfish- 
ness is  for  men  to  hold  the  essentially  Christian  notions  of  human- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  289 

ity  on  high.  Let  us  not  be  deluded  by  any  declaration  that  this  is 
academic  or  unreal.  The  so-called  practical  men,  the  hard-headed 
business  men,  have  in  the  past  few  years  shown  themselves  utterly 
unable  to  solve  these  problems  on  the  basis  of  merely  practical  pre- 
cepts. The  man  whose  dealing  is  with  materials  thinks  that  emphasis 
on  material  and  use  of  material,  of  force — in  other  words — will  check 
the  tendencies  to  industrial  unrest.  He  blusters  with  threats  against 
the  labor  world,  and  calls  upon  governments  to  stamp  out  economic 
and  social  heresies.  The  result  is  that  the  reactionaries  become 
responsible  for  the  spread  of  more  so-called  Red  spirit  than  all 
the  agitators  combined.  On  the  other  hand,  the  man  who  takes  his 
intellectual  training  as  a  fine  thing  to  be  enjoyed  in  itself,  apart 
from  any  great  human  interest  to  be  observed,  gravitates  naturally 
to  the  thought  and  practice  of  those  who  hold  the  privileged  seats. 
A  cynical  social  student  some  time  ago  remarked  that  a  union  of  the 
intellectual  forces  with  the  struggling  industrial  classes  is  not 
possible  simply  because  the  Intellectuals  long  too  eagerly  for  the 
delights  of  fine  society  and  the  bright  chit-chat  of  social  functions. 
This  is  indeed  cynicism,  rather  than  accurate  description,  for  the 
really  educated  are  the  last  ones  likely  to  forget  the  worth  of  men 
as  such.  The  days  of  strenuous  adventure  are  not  over.  Hard  as  were 
the  hardships  of  the  pioneers  of  the  early  day,  the  hardships  of  the 
intellectual  and  spiritual  adventurers  are  more  grievous  still.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  when  Daniel  Boone,  one  of  the  greatest  of 
our  pioneer  frontiersmen,  was  asked  if  he  had  ever  been  lost,  he 
replied  that  he  never  had,  but  that  he  had  once  been  bewildered  for 
three  days !  Anyone  who  ventures  out  into  the  tangle  of  the  social 
frontiers  will  have  to  run  the  risk,  if  not  of  being  lost,  at  least  of 
being  bewildered  for  much  more  than  three  days.  And  yet  the  north 
star  is  always  in  the  north,  and  the  east  is  always  east.  Actual 
schemes  of  social  and  national  reconstruction  must  proceed  under 
the  guidance  of  cool-headed  social  engineers.  The  guiding  principles, 
however,  of  regard  for  certain  elementary  human  values  must  never 
be  lost  sight  of. 

Is  it  not  Rudyard  Kipling  who  has  told  us  in  a  striking  poem 
of  the  unrest  of  the  pioneers  who  always  felt  that  there  was  some- 
thing lost  beyond  the  next  range  of  mountains,  and  that  they  must 
go  forth  to  find  that  something?  Certainly  the  pioneers  searched 
as  for  lost  treasures.  In  the  fields  of  which  I  have  been  speaking 
there  is  always  danger  of  the  greatest  of  losses,  the  loss  of  the 
fundamental  ideals  of  what  human  life  should  be,  and  the  funda- 


290  Indiana  University 

mental  understanding  of  what  life  really  is.  It  is  for  these  that  the 
spiritual  frontiersman  is  forever  to  seek. 

I  once  heard  an  avowed  Socialist  speaking  on  a  Wall  street  corner 
at  noontime.  For  a  while  his  speech  was  dreary  and  uninteresting. 
He  was  trying  somewhat  vainly  to  explain  Marx's  theory  of  surplus 
value  to  a  crowd  of  passers-by.  But  suddenly  he  changed  the 
course  of  his  speech.  He  coolly  recited  what  men  were  asked  to  do 
in  certain  mining  and  manufacturing  districts  in  the  United  States. 
After  the  recital  he  quietly  asked,  Ought  men  ever  to  be  asked  to  do 
such  things?  Then  he  told  of  the  demands  upon  women  in  certain 
industries,  closing  with  the  same  quiet  question,  Ought  women  ever 
be  asked  to  do  such  things?  Once  again  he  described  the  child 
labor  situation  in  the  country,  and  asked,  Ought  children  ever 
be  asked  to  do  such  things?  I  have  never  been  able  to  bring  myself 
to  accept  the  Marxian  theory  of  surplus  values,  either  as  expounded 
by  the  street-corner  orator  or  by  Marx  himself.  On  the  other  hand, 
I  have  never  been  able  to  get  away  from  that  triple  question  of  the 
street  corner  about  what  should  be  asked  of  men  or  women  or  chil- 
dren. Industry  must  be  judged  by  what  it  does  to  men  and  women 
and  children.  Internationalism  must  be  judged  by  its  effect  on  men 
and  women  and  children.  The  racial  contacts  are  in  their  last 
analysis  problems  of  men  and  women  and  children. 

I  stand  before  you  as  in  a  way  a  representative  of  the  Christian 
church.  May  I  say  that  I  can  find  no  contradiction  between  the 
ideals  which  I  have  been  trying  to  utter  to  you  and  the  ideals  of 
Christianity?  More  and  more  the  scholars  are  making  it  clear  to  us 
that  away  back  at  the  very  beginning — in  the  Judaism  out  of  which 
Christianity  came — was  an  elementary  emphasis  on  the  dignity  of 
human  life  as  such  which  is  quite  as  remarkable  as  the  ideal  of  God 
which  was  set  forth  by  the  Hebrew  seers.  In  fact  the  ideal  of  God 
and  the  ideal  for  man  seemed  in  the  Old  Testament  times  to  work 
back  and  forth  in  mutual  re-enforcement.  The  Hebrews  no  sooner 
found  a  worthier  ideal  for  man  than  they  made  it  binding  on  God 
also.  And  they  no  sooner  discovered  a  worthier  conception  of  God 
than  they  taught  it  as  a  guiding  principle  for  human  conduct.  In 
the  life  of  Jesus,  in  which  the  ideal  of  God  and  the  ideal  of  man  is  so 
marvelously  blended,  we  find  as  complete  an  emphasis  upon  mas- 
tering the  right  thought  concerning  man  as  upon  mastering  the  true 
thought  concerning  God.  In  fact,  Jesus  seems  to  have  been  sterner 
in  dealing  with  those  who  took  a  wrong  attitude  toward  man,  than 
even  with  those  who  took  a  wrong  attitude  toward  God.  If  a  man 
made  a  theological  mistake  concerning  God,  Jesus  seemed  to  find  it 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  291 

very  easy  to  forgive  him.  But  if  a  man  made  a  mistake  in  his  essen- 
tial and  underlying  thought  of  his  fellow-man,  Jesus  spoke  with  a 
sternness  at  times  rushing  on  into  invective.  The  sin  of  the  rich  man 
in  the  parable  was  not  the  sin  of  gross  evil  in  character.  It  was  the 
sin  of  a  practical  heresy  toward  the  beggar  at  the  gate.  The  test  by 
which  eternal  issues  as  to  character  are  settled  is,  according  to  the 
gospel  judgment,  the  test  as  to  whether  one  has  or  has  not  met  the 
simple  human  requirements  of  the  earthly  human  existence. 

I  said  in  the  beginning  that  the  old-time  democracy  of  the 
frontier  was  individualistic.  If  one  in  those  days  did  not  like  the 
neighbor,  one  could  move  on.  With  the  passing  of  the  frontier  in 
the  old  sense,  the  population  is  becoming  more  congested.  One  can- 
not rid  one's  self  of  one's  neighbors  simply  by  moving  on.  We  must 
come  to  some  sort  of  adjustment  with  the  neighbor,  and  with  the 
ends  of  the  earth  crowding  in  closely  upon  one  another,  the  nations 
are  nearer  neighbors  than  ever  before.  And  the  so-called  backward 
people  stand  at  our  very  doors.  Yet  after  all  is  it  an  insoluble 
problem?  Is  it  not  just  the  age-old  problem  of  living  together?  If 
it  is,  however,  the  problem  of  living  together,  we  shall  find  that  we 
cannot  long  live  together  except  on  some  basis  of  assumption  as  to 
what  we  are  and  as  to  what  our  neighbors  are.  No  other  assumption 
can  we  safely  make,  than  that  which  the  highest  Christian  scholar- 
ship always  holds  before  us,  that  men  are  to  be  treated  always  as 
men,  because  of  their  inherent  worth  as  men  and  because  of  the 
infinite  possibilities  of  humanity,  as  humanity  is  looked  upon  by 
those  far-seeing  prophets  who  gaze  out  even  beyond  all  frontiers 
toward  the  reaches  of  the  eternal. 


THE  SPIRITUAL  IDEA  OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY 


Sir  Robert  Alexander  Falconer,  Knight  Commander  of  St.  Michael  and  St. 
George,  was  born  at  Charlottetown,  Prince  Edward  Island,  February  10,  1867. 
As  a  boy  he  spent  eight  years  at  Trinidad,  British  West  Indies,  and  attended 
Queen's  Royal  College  School.  In  1885  he  took  the  Gilchrist  scholarship  and 
graduated  with  an  A.B.  degree  from  London,  1888.  At  the  University  of  Edin- 
burgh he  received  the  A.M.  degree  in  1889,  the  B.D.  in  1892,  the  Litt.D.  in  1902. 
The  following  universities  have  conferred  the  LL.D.  degree  on  him:  Glasgow, 
Princeton,  Pennsylvania,  Michigan,  Western  Reserve,  Northwestern,  Toronto, 
and  other  Canadian  universities.  He  also  holds  a  D.D.  degree,  is  a  Companion 
of  St.  Michael  and  St.  George,  and  a  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Canada.  In 
1892  he  became  lecturer  and  professor  of  New  Testament  Greek  in  Pine  Hill 
College,  Halifax,  Nova  Scotia,  and  principal  in  1904.  In  1907  he  became  presi- 
dent of  the  University  of  Toronto.  His  publications  consist  chiefly  of  articles 
in  professional  journals,  in  encyclopedias  and  dictionaries  in  Britain  and  America, 
in  magazines  on  educational  and  public  questions,  and  The  German  Tragedy 
Vnd  Its  Meaning  for  Canada,  and  Idealism  in  National  Character.  He  is  Canadian 
editor  of  Nelson's  Encyclopedia. 


(293) 


THE  SPIRITUAL  IDEA  OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY 

By  SIR  ROBERT  ALEXANDER  FALCONER 

ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  seem  to  us  whose  lot  has  been  cast  in  the 
newer  parts  of  this  continent  to  be  a  long  period,  and  a  university 
which  celebrates  its  centenary  is  relatively  old,  but  tho  the  local 
institution  is  old,  and  the  graduates  of  this  university  are  to  be 
congratulated  on  the  years  and  glory  of  their  Alma  Mater,  a  sense 
of  antiquity  and  transmitted  respect  invests  even  young  institu- 
tions in  this  New  World.  They  are  the  advanced  posts  of  an  an- 
cient and  royal  (if  you  will  bear  with  this  word  for  history's  sake) 
commonwealth,  and  are  entitled  to  wear  the  crest  of  the  noblest 
intellectual  lineage  of  the  world.  The  university  like  the  church  is 
a  universal  institution  of  our  Western  civilization,  which  in  idea  is 
spiritual  but  takes  concrete  forms  that  vary  with  age,  nationality, 
and  local  habitation. 

We  must  not,  therefore,  look  to  our  creations  in  this  New  World 
as  tho  they  were  unique.  It  is  true  that  in  each  of  these  new  uni- 
versities experiments  are  being  made  to  suit  local  necessities,  but 
their  raison  d'etre  is  a  recognizable  spiritual  idea  ever  the  same 
everywhere  which  gives  our  newest  ventures  the  right  to  this  august 
designation.  The  university  is  not  made  by  a  congeries  of  pro- 
fessional schools,  such  as  medicine,  law,  engineering,  dentistry, 
agriculture,  grouped  into  an  administrative  unity.  These  all  may 
be  held  together  and  directed  by  one  board  of  trustees,  and  still 
remain  nothing  but  a  group  of  professional  schools — concentrated 
it  is  true  in  one  spot,  but  nothing  more  than  technical  training-places 
for  the  turning  out  of  men  and  women  who  will  know  enough 
to  make  a  living  by  the  practice  of  the  skill  which  they  have  in 
part  acquired  in  these  places. 

It  is  vital  to  remember  two  facts:  that  these  accompanying 
elements  of  a  university  are  professional  schools  or  faculties,  and  that 
they  are  integral  parts  of  and  receive  their  character  from  the  uni- 
versity. We  may  doubt  indeed  whether  there  could  be  professions 
without  universities,  and  one  of  the  main  functions  of  the  university 
is  to  qualify  for  the  professions.  Let  us  linger  for  a  moment  upon 
that  word  "profession".  It  has  a  noble  meaning.  A  profession 
involves  more  than  technical  skill :  it  is  based  on  broad  knowledge — 

(295) 


296  Indiana  University 

not  simply  on  exact  acquaintance  with  the  facts  necessary  for 
practice,  as  for  example  the  few  facts  about  the  bones  that  the  skil- 
ful bone-setter  requires,  or  the  rudiments  about  drugs  or  simples 
that  an  old-fashioned  doctor  was  content  with — nor  the  skill  of 
mere  manual  dexterity  or  experience  that  by  years  of  repetition  has 
embodied  itself  in  the  instinct  which  is  the  guide  of  the  middle- 
aged.  B**oad  knowledge  of  science  and  human  character  lies  at 
the  foundation  of  the  education  which  prepares  for  the  professions. 
But  more  than  that,  the  member  of  a  genuine  profession  is  by 
ancient  lineage  the  servant  of  the  people.  The  three  primary  pro- 
fessions, as  far  as  age  goes,  the  church,  law,  and  physic,  have  this 
in  common  that  they  are  all  recognized  by  the  state  as  being  in- 
trusted with  great  public  responsibilities.  The  mediaeval  conception 
of  the  clergy  took  its  professed  ideal  from  the  motto  of  the  popes — 
Servus  servorum  Dei;  the  law  finds  its  supreme  embodiment  in  the 
judge  who  is  set  apart  and  surrounded  by  especial  dignity  for  the 
maintenance  of  justice  and  order;  and  the  medical  man  goes  back  to 
Hippocrates  for  the  oath  in  which  he  pays  fealty  to  his  profession — 
"equally  free  from  the  mysticism  of  a  priesthood  and  the  vulgar 
pretensions  of  a  mercenary  craft".  This  idea  of  vocation  to  public 
service  is  essential  to  the  conception  of  a  profession,  and  no  school 
which  does  not  instil  into  its  graduating  students  this  spirit  has  a 
right  to  be  called  more  than  a  technical  institute.  Nor  will  the 
multiplication  of  these  schools  alter  the  matter  one  whit,  for  size 
and  numbers  have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  it.  If  the  profes- 
sional school  is  worthy  to  be  called  a  faculty  of  a  university,  it 
must  be  because  it  is  a  faculty  and  not  a  technical  school. 

The  word  "faculty"  also  is  a  dignified  term.  It  denotes  a  body 
of  persons  on  whom  specific  professional  powers  have  been  conferred. 
They  derive  their  authorization  from  above,  because  they  are  recog- 
nized as  competent  to  maintain  and  create  the  spirit  and  ideals  of 
the  profession.  They  are  not  a  private  group  of  self -constituted 
practitioners,  but  a  recognized  body  of  people  who  have  been 
granted  authority  both  to  teach  and  to  certify  that  those  whom 
they  have  taught  are  fit  and  proper  persons  to  receive  a  degree  at 
the  hands  of  the  superior  body  like  the  university,  to  which  there 
has  been  delegated  by  the  state  the  power  to  confer  the  degree. 

We  may  now  return  to  the  idea  of  the  university  itself.  As  I 
said  at  the  opening,  the  university  is  one  of  the  great  historical 
institutions  of  Western  civilization  which  remains  the  same  in 
essence  wherever  it  may  find  local  habitation.  In  our  New  World 
we  are  too  often  inclined  to  forget  that  by  origin  and  lineage  we  are 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  297 

of  old  stock,  and  that  our  fathers  brought  to  this  New  World  most 
of  the  ideas  in  germ  which  have  developed  and  changed  somewhat 
by  reason  of  the  new  soil  and  atmosphere  in  which  they  have  grown. 
Nor  must  we  assume  that  the  changes  are  always  for  the  better. 
Often  they  are,  generally  they  suit  our  needs,  but  it  may  be  that  . 
they  have  arisen  at  times  simply  thru  our  taking  the  easier  way  in 
order  to  meet  emergent  demands,  and  that  we  have  for  a  season 
forgo ttep  the  idea  itself  in  which  the  vitality  of  the  institution  is 
embedded.  It  is  therefore  not  out  of  place  for  us  on  such  an  occa- 
sion as  this  to  take  a  brief  survey  of  the  history  of  the  most  ancient 
and  one  of  the  greatest  of  the  universities  of  the  world,  the  Univer- 
sity of  Paris.  Here  if  anywhere  we  may  get  an  insight  into  the  idea 
of  a  university,  because  tho  today  great  professional  schools  are 
ranged  round  it,  its  history  has  been  full  of  vicissitudes  and  of 
errors  not  unlike  those  which  endanger  our  flourishing  universities 
in  this  New  World. 

What  I  have  to  say  is  taken  from  an  authoritative  recent  book 
called  La  vie  universitaire  a  Paris.    I  shall  not  linger  over  the  misty 
period  of  origins  when  the  university  began  to  take  shape  in  dif- 
ferent colleges,  but  shall  begin  with  the  thirteenth  century  when 
"the  university  was  a  centre  of  extraordinary  intellectual  life,  and 
enjoyed  such  an  incomparable  prestige  and  moral  authority  that 
both  civil  and  ecclesiastical  powers  had  to  reckon  with  it".    The 
secret  of  this  influence  lay  in  the  wonderfully  developed  training 
that  was  given  at  that  time  by  the  practice  of  dialectic,  not  as  a 
matter  of  mere  form  and  static  laws,  but  as  a  vital  method  of  deal- 
ing with  universal  human  problems  of  man's  being,  beliefs,  and 
conduct.    It  was  an  age  of  faith  in  that  men  were  profoundly  con- 
cerned in  the  things  of  the  human  spirit,  and  this  intensity  throbbing 
in  the  body  of  the  university  made  its  life.    Strange  tho  it  may 
appear,  "with  the  advent  of  the  Renaissance  the  university  fell  into 
decadence  for  several  centuries".    In  its  place  came  the  schools  of 
the  Jesuits,  who  were  great  teachers  and  introduced  a  new  method, 
supplanting  dialectic  with  the  study  of  the  ancient  languages. 
In  their  judgment  the  cultivation  of  the  taste  thru  the  return  to 
classical  antiquity  was  the  essential  purpose  of  intellectual  educa- 
tion.   This  method  reached  its  completion  in  a  perfected  dialectic. 
Beyond  this,  however,  they  could  not  go,  tho  their  finished  product 
was  one  of  the  factors  that  has  entered  into  the  making  of  the 
French  mind  of  today,  and  their  idea  of  the  function  of  education 
persisted  even  until  the  University  of  Paris  was  being  revived  at 
the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century.     The  first  fruit   of  this 


298  Indiana  University 

method  is  what  the  French  call  Finesse,  a  word  which  "since  the 
time  of  Pascal  is  sometimes  called  taste,  sometimes  psychological 
sensibility,  sometimes  a  delicate  intuition  which  warns  one  of  a  point 
where  logic  loses  its  rights" — a  spirit  of  shading  and  moderation, 
the  characteristics  of  the  honnete  homme,  or  gentleman  who  was 
polished  and  refined  by  Latin  oratory,  some  philosophy,  and  even 
some  mathematics.  But  during  the  reign  of  the  Jesuits  the  univer- 
sity itself  was  under  eclipse.  There  was  no  genuine  intellectual 
vigour,  and  tho  science  was  making  headway  in  the  world,  it  was 
thru  individuals,  not  in  the  schools.  Thruout  the  great  period  of  the 
seventeenth  century  the  university  counted  for  little.  Descartes 
wrote  and  influenced  not  the  schools  but  the  world  of  thinkers 
outside. 

At  this  time  when  the  University  of  Paris  was  not  a  teaching 
body  and  had  all  but  disappeared,  "medicine,  law,  and  theology  were 
merely  professional  schools  without  any  ideal".  It  may  be  said 
that  the  situation  was  saved  by  the  creation  in  1530  by  Francis 
I  of  the  College  de  France.  It  prepared  for  no  examination  and  until 
today  is  subject  to  no  program.  Its  teachers,  men  who  are  called 
because  of  their  learning  or  their  powers  of  research,  are  allowed 
full  freedom  for  original  work,  and  they  offer  those  who  wish  to 
listen  or  attend  the  advantages  of  their  newest  discoveries  in  knowl- 
edge. 

With  the  advent  of  the  Revolution  science  was  eagerly  pursued, 
but  for  its  practical  applications,  strange  to  say,  and  many  indivi- 
dual schools  sprang  up  which,  however,  were  narrowly  specialized. 
Napoleon,  moreover,  turned  the  faculties  of  science  and  arts  into 
mere  examining  bodies  composed  of  the  teachers  from  neighbouring 
lyce"es.  "What  was  wanting  were  great  and  powerful  scientific 
workshops  where  thru  teachers  and  students  the  work  of  science 
could  be  carried  on  in  a  collective  and  unbroken  manner." 

We  pass  over  nearly  a  century  of  political  sunshine  and  storm 
until  France  went  down  to  military  defeat  in  1870.  But  then  began 
a  triumph  in  spirit  over  her  disaster  thru  her  universities.  Intel- 
lectual ardor  blazed  forth.  The  professional  schools  were  brought 
together  so  that  by  their  concentration  a  common  intellectual  life 
would  flourish,  as  the  idea  of  the  university  again  penetrated  them. 
Their  leaders  had  learned  that  "to  provide  the  mind  with  the  taste 
for  large  things  we  must  give  it  wide  horizons,  and  in  the  university, 
a  truly  encyclopedic  school,  keep  it  from  narrow  specialization". 

Now  for  the  first  time  for  centuries  by  the  rise  of  the  historic 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  299 

spirit  the  faculty  of  arts  or  letters  resumed  its  rightful  place  in  the 
university. 

Its  aim  is  to  study  the  intellectual  and  moral  life  of  humanity  in  the  world  in 
which  this  life  is  manifested  under  the  most  general  and  complete  forms.  Its 
proper  domain  is  consequently  literature  in  the  largest  sense  of  the  word ;  art  in  so 
far  as  it  expresses  ideal  life;  philosophy  which  synthesizes  the  conceptions  of 
thought;  history  which  is  the  picture  of  social  life;  geography  which  describes  its 
theater.  Its  method  is  scientific  and  literary. 

In  the  faculty  of  science  the  pursuit  is  made  not  in  love  of  an  erudition  which 
is  self-enclosed,  which  is  an  end  in  itself  and  never  reaches  general  ideas.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  has  great  distrust  for  syntheses,  which  end  in  vast  systems,  in 
logical  constructions  as  imposing  as  hazardous.  It  likes  to  keep  to  a  middle 
course,  in  which  the  details  can  be  seen  with  precision,  and  in  which  nevertheless 
a  horizon  can  be  found  broad  enough  so  that  one  need  not  be  stifled.  It  will 
sacrifice  neither  erudition  nor  taste;  neither  exact  knowledge  nor  the  thought 
which  illuminates  knowledge. 

From  this  brief  outline  of  the  history  of  the  University  of  Paris, 
taken  from  a  description  made  by  some  of  those  who  know  most 
about  its  essential  nature,  it  is  evident  that  the  vicissitudes  of  its 
career,  traced  in  curves  now  almost  disappearing  and  again  ascend- 
ing rapidly,  are  due  to  the  vitality  or  the  temporary  dormancy 
of  the  spiritual  principle.  And  if  we  were  to  turn  to  Oxford  and  to 
Cambridge  this  same  truth  might  in  them  also  be  illustrated,  that 
their  periods  of  greatest  influence  were  those  in  which  the  spiritual 
element  was  vital  within  them.  They  have  never  been  like  Paris 
renowned  for  their  professional  schools.  Their  "schools"  have  been 
different  and  each  College  has  had  its  own  individuality.  But  still 
it  is  true  that  they  lived  most  when  they  were  awake  to  the  reality 
of  things  spiritual. 

Probably  I  cannot  find  a  better  delineation  of  the  ideal  of  Oxford 
University  in  the  nineteenth  century  than  that  given  by  John  Henry 
Newman,  who  was  one  of  its  most  distinctive  products,  and  one  of 
its  greatest  ornaments.  What  he  says  is  of  course  an  ideal,  and  it 
bears  the  limitations  of  his  own  mind,  but  it  is  nevertheless  a  fine 
exposition  of  the  aims  of  an  historic  university. 

If  a  practical  end  must  be  assigned  to  a  university  course  I  say  it  is  that  of 
training  good  members  for  society.  Its  art  is  the  art  of  social  life,  and  its  end  is 
fitness  for  the  world.  It  neither  confines  its  views  to  particular  professions  on 
the  one  hand,  nor  creates  heroes  or  inspires  genius  on  the  other.  A  university 
training  is  the  great  ordinary  means  to  a  great  but  ordinary  end:  it  aims  at 
raising  the  intellectual  tone  of  society,  at  cultivating  the  public  mind,  at  purifying 
the  national  taste,  at  supplying  true  principles  to  popular  enthusiasm  and  fixed 
aims  to  popular  aspiration,  at  giving  enlargement  and  sobriety  to  the  ideas  of  the 
age,  at  facilitating  the  exercise  of  political  power,  and  refining  the  intercourse  of 


300  Indiana  University 

private  life.  It  is  the  education  which  gives  a  man  a  clear  conscious  view  of  his 
own  opinions  and  judgments,  a  truth  in  developing  them,  an  eloquence  in  express- 
ing them,  and  a  force  in  urging  them.  It  teaches  him  to  see  things  as  they  are, 
to  go  right  to  the  point,  to  disentangle  a  skein  of  thought,  to  detect  what  is  sophisti- 
cal, and  to  discard  what  is  irrelevant.  It  prepares  him  to  fill  any  post  with  credit, 
and  to  master  any  subject  with  facility.  It  shows  him  how  to  accommodate 
himself  to  others,  how  to  throw  himself  into  their  state  of  mind,  how  to  bring 
before  them  his  own,  how  to  influence  them,  how  to  come  to  an  understanding 
with  them,  how  to  bear  with  them.  He  is  at  home  in  any  society,  he  has  common 
ground  with  every  class;  he  knows  when  to  speak  and  when  to  be  silent;  he  is 
able  to  converse,  he  is  able  to  listen;  he  can  ask  a  question  pertinently,  and  gain 
a  lesson  seasonably,  when  he  has  nothing  to  impart  himself;  he  is  ever  ready, 
yet  never  in  the  way;  he  is  a  pleasant  companion  and  a  comrade  you  can  depend 
upon;  he  knows  when  to  be  serious  and  when  to  trifle,  and  he  has  a  sure  tact 
which  enables  him  to  trifle  with  gracefulness  and  to  be  serious  with  effect  He 
has  the  repose  of  mind  which  lives  in  itself,  while  it  lives  in  the  world,  and  which 
has  resources  for  its  happiness  at  home,  when  it  cannot  go  abroad.  He  has  a 
gift  which  serves  him  in  public,  and  supports  him  in  retirement,  without  which 
good  fortune  is  but  vulgar,  and  with  which  failure  and  disappointment  have  a 
charm.  (Idea  of  University,  p.  177.) 

I  fancy  that  in  this  the  great  Cardinal  is  unconsciously  taking 
himself  for  his  model,  and  not  a  few  touches  of  autobiography  are 
to  be  found  in  the  extract.  But  tho  in  lofty  eloquence  he  carries  us 
into  a  region  beyond  the  attainment  of  ordinary  folk,  the  ideal  does 
depict  the  spiritual  function  of  a  university.  I  will  allow  you  to 
estimate  each  for  himself  his  relative  place,  in  the  hope  that  each 
will  judge  his  approximation  to  the  standard  with  due  modesty. 

But  to  balance  affairs  I  must  take  an  extract  from  another 
great  Englishman,  who  also  had  a  command  of  fine  English  but 
otherwise  had  little  in  common  with  Cardinal  Newman;  I  mean 
Huxley.  He  was  a  severe  critic  of  much  in  the  older  universities, 
tho  no  one  was  more  eager  for  the  maintenance  of  a  university 
spirit  in  all  the  professions.  He  was  a  reformer,  not  a  revolutionist, 
certainly  not  an  anarchist.  Huxley  has  this  to  say: 

I  take  it  that  the  whole  object  of  education  is,  in  the  first  place,  to  train  the 
faculties  of  the  young  in  such  a  manner  as  to  give  their  possessors  the  best  chance 
of  being  happy  and  useful  in  their  generation;  and,  in  the  second  place,  to  furnish 
them  with  the  most  important  portions  of  that  immense  capitalized  experience 
of  the  human  race  which  we  call  knowledge  of  various  kinds.  .  .  .  You  do 
not  care  to  make  your  University  a  school  of  manners  for  the  rich;  of  sports  for 
the  athletic;  or  a  hot-bed  of  high-fed,  hypercritical  refinement,  more  destructive 
to  vigour  and  originality  than  are  starvation  and  oppression.  [This  was  a  shot 
at  Oxford.]  .  •  •  In  an  ideal  University  as  I  conceive  it,  a  man  should  be 
able  to  obtain  instruction  in  all  forms  of  knowledge,  and  discipline  in  the  use  of 
all  the  methods  by  which  knowledge  is  obtained.  In  such  a  University,  the  force 
of  living  example  should  fire  the  student  with  a  noble  ambition  to  emulate  the 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  301 

learning  of  learned  men,  and  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  the  explorers  of  new 
fields  of  knowledge.  And  the  very  air  he  breathes  should  be  charged  with  that 
enthusiasm  for  truth,  that  fanaticism  of  veracity,  which  is  a  greater  possession 
than  much  learning;  a  nobler  gift  than  the  power  of  increasing  knowledge;  by 
so  much  greater  and  nobler  than  these,  as  the  moral  nature  of  man  is  greater 
than  the  intellectual;  for  veracity  is  the  heart  of  morality.  (Science  and  Educa- 
tion, pp.  174,  202,  204.) 

These  great  Englishmen,  so  unlike  in  almost  everything,  are 
alike  in  this  that  they  magnify  the  function  of  the  university  as 
producing  a  certain  ethos  or  character  in  its  students.  For  them  it 
is  not  a  mere  congeries  of  professional  schools,  chiefly  technical  with 
an  arts  college  in  the  center.  The  spirit  that  should  be  the  soul  of 
the  arts  faculty  is  to  pervade  all  the  others,  and  is  not  primarily 
a  matter  of  knowledge,  for,  as  Newman  says,  "The  university 
teaches  men  to  see  things  as  they  are,  to  go  right  to  the  point,  to  dis- 
entangle a  skein  of  thought,  to  detect  what  is  sophistical,  to  discard 
what  is  irrelevant."  Or  in  the  words  of  Huxley,  "The  very  air  he 
breathes  should  be  charged  with  that  enthusiasm  for  truth,  that 
fanaticism  of  veracity,  which  is  a  greater  possession  than  much 
learning."  What  a  fine  vigour  Huxley's  language  has — "fanaticism 
of  veracity!"  the  incisive  paradox  of  a  man  who  would  doubtless 
claim  that  fanatics  had  been  buzzing  round  him  all  his  life  thru. 

Both  these  men  would  agree  that  the  function  of  the  university 
is  to  produce  intelligence  of  the  highest  quality,  and  probably  they 
would  also  accept  the  definition  of  the  French  critic  who  says: 

Intelligence  properly  so  called  is  open-mindedness,  a  sense  for  seeing  things 
just  as  they  are,  the  talent  for  comprehending  the  fact  of  reality  and  of  discerning 
relative  purposes.  In  social  relations  we  call  it  Tact,  in  literature  it  is  designated 
taste,  in  science  it  is  criticism.  A  sense  of  proportion  .  .  .  confidence  in 
ideas  regulated  by  a  sense  of  reality. 

The  production  of  such  an  intelligence  is  a  most  noble  aim,  but 
nothing  less  than  this  lies  at  the  center  of  the  spiritual  life,  which  is 
the  soul  of  a  true  university.  And  never  was  it  more  needed  than 
today  in  our  enormous  state  universities  of  this  continent  which  are 
growing,  it  seems  often,  more  by  accumulation  than  by  organic 
development  from  the  center  of  the  old  arts  faculty  with  its  univer- 
sity spirit.  Fundamentally  we  must  remember  that  the  university 
in  all  its  branches  deals  primarily  with  persons  who  are  to  become 
equipped  for  their  professions — that  its  chief  concern  is  not  curricula 
or  courses  which  are  to  be  imposed  upon  absorbent  organisms.  As  I 
have  already  remarked,  it  is  for  professions  that  students  are  being 
educated  in  the  practical  schools  of  the  university,  and  a  profession 


302  Indiana  University 

involves  definite  ethical  qualities  in  the  person  who  is  to  practice  it. 
What  is  generally  called  culture — at  least  some  measure  of  it — 
is  a  requisite  in  any  person  who  is  to  be  a  worthy  member  of  a  pro- 
fession. This  is  I  am  afraid  just  where  we  are  in  danger  in  our  New 
World.  We  are  turning  out  experts  in  medical  and  surgical  knowl- 
edge, in  the  sciences  of  physiology  and  pathology,  in  the  technique 
of  anatomy  and  surgery ;  but  what  about  the  refined  judgment  of  the 
man  who  will  use  this  expert  knowledge  so  as  to  become  a  safe  and 
broad-minded  practitioner  and  a  wise  leader  in  society?  We  are 
educating  men  who  understand  the  physics  of  engineering,  of  the 
strains  and  stresses,  the  chemistry  of  metallurgy  and  even  of  sani- 
tation, but  what  about  "the  passion  for  veracity  which  is  the  heart 
of  morality",  which  wins  for  a  great  engineer  the  trust  of  all  for 
whom  he  performs  professional  duties,  whether  employer  or  em- 
ployed? If  our  universities  are  to  grow  more  complex  and  increase 
in  size  it  will  become  an  ever  more  difficult  but  even  more  important 
task,  to  pervade  the  newer  faculties  and  departments  with  the 
spiritual  aims  which  historically  belong  to  the  university,  and 
without  which  it  would  lose  its  right  to  its  name  and  become  a  mere 
agglomeration  of  professional  schools.  Possibly  if  Newman  were 
to  visit  the  state  universities  in  this  New  World  he  would  abandon 
hope  of  his  ideal,  but  Huxley,  as  shown  by  his  vigorous  addresses  at 
the  opening  of  Johns  Hopkins  University  in  1876,  would  not. 
Huxley  might  be  downright  critical  of  us  but  he  would  be  hopeful 
nevertheless,  because  he  would  see  that  science  is  being  better 
taught  every  year.  He  might  also  remember  the  story  of  the  French 
university,  how  a  new  spirit  transformed  Paris  in  the  nineteenth 
century,  until  today  its  professional  schools,  having  imbibed  the 
genuine  university  spirit,  are  incorporated  into  a  great  institution  in 
which  knowledge  is  accumulated,  sifted,  and  diffused.  And  if 
Paris  had  its  years  of  unidealism  but  triumphed  over  them,  why  may 
not  we,  who  have  a  magnificent  inheritance  and  have  so  much 
to  be  proud  of,  be  optimistic  about  our  own  future?  Of  course 
France  is  a  small  country  and  it  has  had  a  long  civilization.  But 
we  do  not  expect  results  to  follow  in  a  day.  The  process  will  be 
tedious  for  us,  and  the  universities  can  by  no  means  produce  the 
results  alone.  They  must  build  upon  a  finer  education  in  the  schools, 
for  all  education  is  one.  Years  spent  in  the  moulding  period  of  youth 
under  fine-grained  teachers  are  as  determinative  as  the  four  or  five 
years  spent  in  a  university. 

But  there  is  further  good  hope  for  our  future:    The  quality  of 
our  people  is  such  that  they  will  be  responsive  to  any  spiritual  leader- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  303 

ship  that  the  universities  may  give  them.  They  possess  funda- 
mentally a  fine  idealism  and  are  not  sold  over  completely  to  the 
material.  Indeed,  they  expect  from  the  universities  just  the  kind 
of  product  that  it  has  always  been  their  boast  that  they  should 
produce.  They  do  not  want  selfish  practitioners  who  convert  their 
profession  into  a  trade.  They  expect  us  to  send  them  men  and 
women  who  will  be  good  members  of  society,  and  that  too  not  be- 
cause as  engineers  or  surgeons  they  are  skilful  as  carpenters  are 
skilful,  thereby  performing  a  parallel  function  for  the  community, 
but  because  they  have  highly  developed  minds  and  spirits,  sensitive 
and  sympathetic  to  all  that  concerns  the  health  and  social  welfare  of 
the  society  in  which  they  move — to  say  nothing  of  the  interest  they 
ought  to  add  to  life,  the  amenity  they  should  contribute  to  their 
circle  by  their  appreciation  of  knowledge,  and  of  beauty  in  morals  or 
art.  Thru  the  multitudes  of  graduates  who  each  summer  are  cer- 
tified to  the  world  as  fit  and  proper  persons  to  wear  the  degrees  of  the 
university,  the  general  taste  of  the  public  must  surely  be  raised  and 
its  judgment  be  educated.  They  ought  to  be  like  the  warm  airs  of 
spring  that  sweep  over  the  well  tilled  earth  and  bring  to  fruition 
many  of  the  common  virtues  that  lie  latent  as  seeds  in  the  hearts  of 
average  folk.  Instead  of  that  how  many  a  mere  expert,  finely 
trained  I  grant  you,  is  like  a  magnificent  iceberg  dazzling  to  the  eye, 
but  feared  because  of  the  fog  of  suspicion  and  self-interest  that  he  so 
often  creates.  He  chills  the  atmosphere  and  in  time  disappears,  to 
the  happiness  of  everyone,  in  his  own  cold  environment. 

I  have  treated  the  term  "spiritual"  in  a  very  broad  way,  but  I 
believe  that  this  is  essentially  the  true  way  of  applying  it  in  the 
theme  which  has  been  assigned  to  me.  Of  course  the  highest  concept 
of  the  spiritual  must  include  religion,  but  I  do  not  intend  to  dwell 
upon  the  influence  of  universities  on  religion,  except  to  say  that  I 
believe  that  true  religion  is  bound  in  the  long  run  to  profit  by  the 
intensification  of  the  genuine  spiritual  aim  of  university  education, 
as  I  have  defined  it,  because  veracity  is  the  primary  virtue  of  religion. 
Where  the  right  attitude  of  mind  exists  error  of  any  kind  will  gradu- 
ally cease  and  truth  will  prevail,  and  therefore  genuine  religion 
flourish.  Jesus  Himself  said  that  the  only  sin  that  could  not  be 
forgiven  was  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Spirit,  i.e.  the  sin  of  the  per- 
verted will  that  deliberately  calls  good  evil  and  evil  good ;  it  is  not  a 
sin  of  knowledge  but  of  the  moral  character  and  of  an  unveracious 
mind.  Fortunately,  the  youth  of  the  present  day  have  been 
accustomed  to  an  atmosphere  in  which  the  former  controversies 
of  science  and  religion  have  withered,  and  lie  like  dead  leaves  only 


304  Indiana  University 

fluttered  into  spasmodic  movement  as  some  gust  of  the  late  autumn 
disturbs  them  from  the  path  into  which  the  tramp  of  human  life 
beats  them  down. 

Let  me  conclude  by  a  quotation  from  Bacon,  which  might  be 
placed  by  every  university  as  the  motto  for  all  who  enter  its  portals: 

Truth  which  onely  doth  judge  itselfe,  teacheth  that  the  inquirie  of  truth  which  is 
the  love-making  or  wooing  of  it;  the  knowledge  of  truth  which  is  the  presence  of 
it;  and  the  beliefe  of  truth  which  is  the  enjoying  of  it;  is  the  soveraigne  good  of 
human  nature. 

As  I  read  these  sentences  they  depict  for  me  the  stages  of  the  genuine 
student.  First,  he  comes  up  eagerly  to  the  university  with  the  high- 
est expectation  bent  upon  "the  inquirie  of  truth  which  is  the  love- 
making  or  wooing  of  it".  May  we  always  meet  him  in  such  a  spirit 
of  kindly  welcome  that  his  period  of  love-making  will  last  long  and 
grow  increasingly  happy.  Then  there  is  "the  knowledge  of  truth 
which  is  the  presence  of  it".  May  our  teachers  retain  such  fresh 
and  active  minds,  free  from  cynicism  or  indolence  that  the  univer- 
sities will  be  discovered  by  our  students  to  be  homes  of  genuine 
knowledge,  to  the  stores  of  which  competent  investigators  are  adding 
every  day;  also  as  the  undergraduate  passes  into  the  graduate 
stage  may  he  find  that  he  has  acquired  during  his  years  not  only  some 
real  knowledge  but  also  the  correct  methods  of  procuring  more  for 
himself.  Finally  "the  beliefe  of  truth  which  is  the  enjoying  of  it". 
What  greater  blessing  can  we  wish  for  our  university  graduate  when 
he  reaches  the  maturity  of  his  education  than  to  be  able  truthfully  to 
say  "I  believe"?  Much  of  his  knowledge  will  have  been  forgotten  or 
proved  erroneous,  but  each  year  he  will  have  been  securing  a  sense 
of  the  reality  of  things,  so  will  have  become  steadfast  in  the  belief 
that  there  is  truth  in  life,  and  will  enjoy  life  to  the  full  because  he  is 
persuaded  that  truth  is  not  an  airy  phantasm,  no  more  real  and  en- 
during than  the  iridescent  colors  in  a  cloud  that  is  soon  to  be  swal- 
lowed up  of  night,  but  is  a  possession  to  be  enjoyed  even  to  old  age. 
Then  will  he  agree  with  Bacon  that  this  pursuit  of  truth  is  "the 
soveraigne  good  of  human  nature". 


THE  CENTENNIAL  COMMENCEMENT 


[The  following  account  of  the  Centennial  commencement  was  written  by 
Ivy  L.  Chamness,  '06,  editor  of  University  publications,  for  the  July,  1920,  issue 
of  the  Indiana  University  Alumni  Quarterly.  The  addresses  delivered  on  com- 
mencement day  are  included.] 


(305) 


THE  CENTENNIAL  COMMENCEMENT 

THE  FIRST  CENTENNIAL  COMMENCEMENT  of  Indiana  University 
has  passed  into  history.  Gala  week  festivities,  covering  more  than 
the  usual  number  of  days,  began  with  the  baccalaureate  address  on 
Sunday  evening,  May  30,  and  closed  with  the  ninety-first  annual 
commencement  on  June  4.  The  week  was  crowded  full  of  inter- 
esting events,  in  which  there  participated  more  alumni  than  ever 
before  returned  for  the  graduating  exercises  of  their  Alma  Mater. 
Everyone  was  happy  to  be  here,  and  in  the  joy  of  meeting  old 
friends  and  of  seeing  the  campus  again,  forgot  even  such  absorbing 
topics  as  the  league  of  nations,  the  high  cost  of  living,  and  the 
political  conventions.  The  campus  was  lovely,  as  always,  and  the 
weather  on  most  days  favorable. 

The  baccalaureate  address,  held  in  Assembly  Hall  instead  of  the 
campus  amphitheater  because  of  rain,  was  delivered  by  Allan  B. 
Philputt,  '80,  pastor  of  the  Central  Christian  Church  of  Indian- 
apolis, and  formerly  a  member  of  the  University  faculty.  He  took 
for  his  text  Isaiah  30 :31,  "And  thine  ears  shall  hear  the  word  behind 
thee."  Dr.  Philputt  called  attention  to  the  achievements  of  the 
past,  reminding  us  that  the  traces  of  antiquity  are  all  about  us,  and 
that  we  owe  a  debt  to  the  past.  Speaking  of  the  history  of  the  Uni- 
versity, he  said  that  altho  the  University  is  now  established  and 
need  not  struggle  for  existence,  there  are  still  problems  to  be  solved. 
The  mission  of  a  university  in  a  democracy  is  well  defined.  Edu- 
cation gives  insight,  poise,  courage,  and  calmness  of  soul  in  a  world 
full  of  hard  problems.  It  is  no  longer  a  luxury,  the  prerogative  of 
the  rich  youth,  and  a  college  graduate  must  not  expect  to  get 
thru  life  more  easily  because  he  is  educated.  Rather,  he  must 
go  to  work,  for  others  as  well  as  for  himself.  Each  one  should 
feel  a  personal  responsibility  in  helping  to  solve  the  many  serious 
problems  of  America  today.  Those  who  enjoy  the  advantages  of 
education  should  acknowledge  a  perpetual  obligation  to  society. 
During  the  war  we  were  filled  with  a  high  idealism ;  we  dreamed  of 
a  better  world,  of  the  brotherhood  of  man,  of  the  putting  away  of 
false  gods.  We  made  vows  and  felt  the  joy  of  united  effort  in  a 
noble  cause.  Have  we  forgotten  these  vows  or  did  we  really  intend 
to  keep  them?  We  now  lack  confidence  in  each  other;  we  indulge 

(307) 


308  Indiana  University 

in  levity,  recklessness,  and  wild  extravagance,  all  of  which  bode  ill. 
The  churches  and  schools  must  hold  fast  to  principles,  altho  ex- 
periment must  come.  We  should  not  be  bound  fast  by  the  past, 
rather  we  should  use  the  experience  of  the  past  in  order  that  it  may 
give  us  courage  to  travel  unbroken  fields.  Do  not  be  stupidly  con- 
servative, Dr.  Philputt  said,  but  listen  to  the  wisdom  of  the  fathers, 
go  to  them  for  counsel,  but  return  with  caution.  Make  our  own 
blunders  perhaps,  but  do  not  perpetuate  the  blunders  of  the  past. 
Have  a  care  in  the  clamor  for  change.  Work  with  the  new  prob- 
lems, but  go  not  after  false  gods.  Hold  to  the  faith  of  the  past. 
Isaiah  was  not  a  reactionary,  but  a  seer.  Follow  men  of  vision, 
who  see,  not  visionaries,  who  imagine.  Idealism  has  been  a  coat  for 
many  crimes,  for  instance,  the  soviet  in  Russia  and  the  Jacobins  in 
France.  The  better  forms  of  government  should  be  obtained  not 
by  a  radicalism  but  by  orderly  development.  The  true  idealist  is  a 
practical  man.  His  feet  are  on  the  ground,  but  they  do  not  lie  on 
the  ground.  "Where  there  is  no  vision  the  people  perish."  Labor 
leaders  say  and  many  believe  that  the  public  is  too  indifferent  to 
many  wrongs.  Society  today  needs  the  services  of  spiritually- 
minded  persons.  Even  ten  righteous  men  could  have  saved  Sodom 
from  destruction.  Our  young  men  helped  to  save  us  during  the  war 
and  they  should  help  to  save  the  country  in  peace.  The  Fathers 
believed  education  to  be  a  sure  fortress  of  virtue.  Leaders  for 
the  new  day  should  listen  to  the  voice  behind.  An  ancient  proverb 
says  that  the  truth  of  life  abideth  among  the  wise.  In  reply  to  the 
charge  that  Christianity  has  been  tried  and  found  wanting,  Dr. 
Philputt  declared  that  Christianity  has  been  found  difficult,  but  has 
not  been  tried.  The  Golden  Rule  and  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount 
must  save  this  broken  world. 

On  Monday,  designated  as  All-University  Day,  the  senior 
women's  breakfast  was  held  in  the  University  cafeteria.  Mildred 
Begeman,  '20,  the  toastmis tress,  called  upon  Dean  Agnes  E.  Wells, 
who  urged  the  women  to  return  in  five  years  to  their  class  reunions, 
and  Anna  R.  Clark,  '15,  Y.W.C.A.  secretary  who  is  soon  to  leave 
for  China,  who  admonished  the  class  to  do  nothing  unworthy  of 
the  University.  Other  responses  were  made  by  Emma  McClain, 
Mary  Painter,  Lorena  Ray,  Ruth  Duncan,  Kathleen  Moran,  and 
Margaret  Cox. 

The  formal  exercises  usually  connected  with  the  flag  raising, 
ivy  and  tree  planting,  and  the  presentation  of  the  class  memorial  had 
to  be  canceled  because  of  rain,  but  a  flag  was  given  to  the  Uni- 
versity, and  the  ivy  and  tree  were  set  out.  The  class  presented  to 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  309 

the  University  money  left  from  the  Arbutus  to  start  a  fund  for  a 
stadium  back  of  the  Men's  Gymnasium.  The  rain  also  prevented  the 
seniors  from  holding  the  peace  pipe  ceremony  and  the  usual  exer- 
cises at  which  the  class  oration  and  the  class  poem  are  delivered. 
The  annual  faculty -senior  baseball  game  was  postponed  until  Wed- 
nesday forenoon.  The  band  concert  and  community  songfest  also 
had  to  be  canceled  because  of  the  condition  of  Jordan  Field.  The 
Alumni  Council  met  during  the  day  in  the  Faculty  Club  rooms  and 
framed  some  recommendations  to  be  proposed  to  the  Indiana  Uni- 
versity Association  of  Alumni  and  Former  Students  at  their  meeting 
on  Tuesday.  The  day  closed  with  the  senior  play,  What  Happened 
to  Jones,  by  George  Broadhurst,  given  by  members  of  the  class  in 
Assembly  Hall,  after  which  an  informal  reception  with  dancing  was 
held  in  the  Men's  Gymnasium. 

On  Tuesday,  Alumni  Day  because  the  state  law  says  that  an 
alumni  trustee  shall  be  elected  on  Tuesday  preceding  commence- 
ment, the  alumni  met  in  Assembly  Hall  to  conduct  their  business 
session.  David  E.  Beem,  '60,  presided  until  Frank  Elmer  Raschig, 
'10,  the  president  of  the  Association,  arrived.  James  William  Fes- 
ler,  '87,  the  only  nominee  for  alumni  trustee,  was  declared  elected. 

Humphrey  M.  Barbour,  '15,  the  alumni  secretary,  presented 
the  recommendation  of  the  Alumni  Council  that  the  dues  of  the 
Association  be  raised  to  $2  and  that  the  price  of  life  membership 
be  raised  to  $50.  This  involved  the  changing  of  Article  VIII  of  the 
Association's  constitution,  which,  since  the  recommendation  was 
passed,  now  reads:  "The  dues  of  the  Association  shall  be  two  dol- 
lars ($2.00)  per  year,  and  all  members  shall  be  entitled  to  receive 
all  publications  authorized  by  the  Association.  Life  membership 
dues,  payable  in  one  or  five  annual  instalments,  shall  be  fifty  dollars." 

Mr.  Barbour  also  read  a  recommendation  from  the  Alumni 
Council  that  Article  V  of  the  constitution  be  amended  to  remove  an 
ambiguity.  The  motion  was  carried  and  the  section  now  reads: 
'The  President,  Vice-Presidents,  Recording  Secretary,  Treasurer, 
and  Executive  Committee  of  this  Association  shall  be  elected  by 
ballot  at  the  annual  meeting  in  June  for  a  period  of  one  year  or 
until  their  successors  are  elected  and  qualify.  The  alumni  secre- 
tary shall  be  appointed  by  the  Alumni  Council  in  conference  with 
the  University  administration." 

A  third  recommendation  of  the  Alumni  Council  concerned  the 
financing  of  the  Association,  which  the  Council  believed  should  be 
put  upon  an  independent  financial  basis.  "To  this  end  it  further 
recommends  that  the  Association  now  instruct  the  Alumni  Council 


310  Indiana  University 

to  proceed  at  once  to  formulate  plans  for  the  immediate  raising 
of  an  adequate  endowment  fund  for  the  complete  financing  of  the 
work  of  the  Association."  The  recommendation  was  put  in  the 
form  of  a  motion  and,  after  discussion,  carried.  During  the  dis- 
cussion the  question  of  the  amount  of  the  endowment  was  raised. 
It  was  thought  that  the  alumni  office  would  probably  cost  $10,000 
or  $12,000  a  year,  and  that  an  endowment  of  $200,000  was  neces- 
sary to  yield  this  amount.  Inasmuch  as  it  would  necessarily  be 
some  time  before  this  endowment  could  be  raised,  it  was  proposed 
that  sustaining  memberships  be  solicited.  Dr.  Charles  Stoltz,  ex-'90, 
of  South  Bend,  gave  $20  as  a  start  and  the  following  alumni  pledged 
themselves  to  give  $20  a  year  for  a  period  of  five  years:  Robert 
A.  Woods,  '81,  Princeton;  Benjamin  F.  Adams,  '83,  Bloomington; 
John  H.  Bothwell,  '69,Sedalia,Mo.;Thurman  Van  Metre,  '10,  New 
York  City;  Humphrey  M.  Barbour,  '15,  Bloomington;  John  C. 
Shirk,  '81,  Brookville;  James  A.  Woodburn,  '76,  Bloomington; 
Ulysses  H.  Smith,  '93,  Bloomington;  Frank  Elmer  Raschig,  '10, 
Indianapolis;  William  F.  Book,  '00,  Bloomington;  Allan  B.  Phil- 
putt,  '80,  Indianapolis;  James  M.  Philputt,  '85,  Eureka,  111.;  David 
A.  Rothrock,  '92,  Bloomington;  Grace  M.  Philputt,  '08,  Blooming- 
ton;  Edna  Johnson,  '98,  Bloomington;  Charles  Wiggins,  '04,  Winni- 
peg, Canada.  The  following  pledged  $10  a  year  for  five  years: 
William  H.  Wylie,  '97,  Bloomington;  J.  Harold  Warner,  '15,  South 
Bend;  William  A.  Rawles,  '84,  Bloomington;  Daniel  T.  Weir,  '91, 
Indianapolis. 

Election  of  officers  resulted  as  follows:  Andrew  J.  Rogers, 
'10,  Indianapolis,  president;  Mrs.  Prudence  Arnott  Craig,  '84, 
Noblesville,  first  vice-president;  John  C.  Shirk,  '81,  Brookville, 
second  vice-president;  Mrs.  Kate  Milner  Rabb,  '86,  Indianapolis, 
third  vice-president;  Ulysses  H.  Smith,  '93,  Bloomington,  secretary; 
Benjamin  F.  Adams,  '83,  Bloomington,  treasurer.  The  executive 
committee  consists  of  five  Bloomington  alumni:  Nicholas  O.  Pitt- 
enger,  '11,  Mrs.  Ella  Rawles  Springer,  '88,  Schuyler  C.  Davisson, 
'90,  Mrs.  Ruth  Steele  Brooks,  '10,  and  William  M.  Louden,  '91. 
Dr.  Adah  McMahan,  '89,  of  Lafayette,  and  Albert  Stump,  '12,  of 
Indianapolis,  were  elected  new  members  of  the  Alumni  Council. 
The  election  of  Councillors  was  not  announced,  however,  at  this 
meeting.  Old  members  re-elected  for  three  years  were:  Lillian 
Gay  Berry,  '99,  Bloomington;  Uz  McMurtrie,  '08,  Indianapolis; 
Dick  Miller,  '94,  Indianapolis;  Allan  B.  Philputt,  '80,  Indianapolis; 
Jacob  G.  Collicott,  '00,  Indianapolis. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  311 

The  meeting  was  cut  short  because  of  the  All-University  con- 
vocation in  the  Men's  Gymnasium,  the  program  of  which  was  in 
charge  of  the  Boosters'  Club,  a  student  organization.  Dick  Miller, 
'94,  of  Indianapolis,  presided  at  this  meeting,  and  presented  to  the 
audience  the  captains  of  the  various  athletic  teams.  A  cup  for 
winning  the  singles  championship  in  the  Indiana  stale  collegiate  ten- 
nis meet  was  to  be  presented  to  Frederick  E.  Bastian,  '21,  of  Indi- 
anapolis, but  he  failed  to  appear  when  called  to  the  platform.  An- 
nouncement was  made  that  the  Gimbel  prize  given  to  a  senior  or 
junior  who  is  trying  out  for  an  athletic  team  "for  merit  in  habits, 
college  spirit,  application,  and  sincerity",  had  been  awarded  to 
Spencer  G.  Pope,  '20,  of  Indianapolis,  football  star.  The  Confer- 
ence prize  for  scholarship  and  athletics  was  announced  as  awarded 
to  Willard  G.  Rauschenbach,  '20,  of  Stillwell.  Head  Coach  Ewald 
O.  Stiehm  spoke  of  the  athletic  record  of  the  past  few  years,  and  of 
the  prospects  for  success  in  the  future.  He  went  on  to  speak  of 
the  athletic  needs  of  the  University,  but  was  cut  short  by  an  alarm 
clock  calling  time  on  him.  President  Bryan  made  a  short  but 
eloquent  appeal  for  physical  education  and  athletics.  Quoting  Ter- 
ence's line,  "Nothing  which  belongs  to  man  is  alien  to  me",  he 
went  on  to  say  that  the  Greeks,  whom  we  credit  with  giving  us 
almost  every  good  thing  except  religion,  laid  great  stress  upon 
athletics.  Dr.  Bryan  said  that  he  believed  with  all  his  heart  in  inter- 
collegiate athletics  and  in  every  other  kind  of  athletics  which  is  good 
for  man.  He  concluded  with  a  stirring  appeal  for  united  support  of 
clean  athletics  in  the  University.  The  convocation  closed  with  a 
series  of  Indiana  yells.  The  band  played  as  the  audience  assembled 
and  at  the  close  of  the  convocation.  The  attendance  of  students  was 
required  and  a  roll  taken.  (This  because  students  were  required  to 
remain  at  the  University  for  the  Centennial  celebration,  and  a  check 
on  attendance  was  necessary.) 

At  one  o'clock  there  was  an  R.O.T.C.  battalion  parade  and 
review  on  Jordan  Field.  The  Indiana-Notre  Dame  game,  which 
was  scheduled  to  follow  this  review,  was  declared  forfeited  to 
Indiana  by  a  9  to  0  score  because  the  opponent's  team,  owing  to  bad 
train  connection,  did  not  appear  on  the  field  at  the  time  set  for  the 
game.  The  Indiana  nine,  however,  proceeded  to  demonstrate  its 
superiority  over  the  visitors  in  an  exhibition  game  called  almost  an 
hour  late.  The  Notre  Dame  team  was  augmented,  in  this  exhibition 
game,  by  two  Crimson  players.  After  the  first  inning,  resulting 
1  to  0  in  favor  of  Indiana,  the  remainder  of  the  Notre  Dame  players 


312  Indiana  University 

arrived.  The  score  at  the  end  of  the  seventh  inning,  when  the  game 
was  called  because  of  the  pageant,  was  4  to  1  in  favor  of  Indiana. 
The  first  of  the  three  performances  of  the  Centennial  pageant 
was  held  on  Tuesday  afternoon.  The  seats  were  built  in  the  north- 
west corner  of  the  campus,  near  Seventh  street  and  Indiana  avenue, 
and  the  spot  of  campus  north  of  the  evergreens  behind  the  Student 
Building,  near  the  River  Jordan,  formed  the  stage.  The  trees 
furnished  the  necessary  screening  and  a  few  paths  between  them 
served  as  approaches. 

The  purpose  of  the  pageant,  according  to  the  author,  William 
Chauncy  Langdon,  was  "to  celebrate  the  progress  attained  during 
the  hundred  years  of  the  University's  existence,  and  to  indicate  the 
significance  of  the  educational  situation  in  which  Indiana  University 
and  all  American  universities  find  themselves  in  the  year  1920". 
The  music  was  composed  by  Professor  Winfred  Merrill,  head  of  the 
music  department  in  the  University,  and  it  was  performed  by  the 
University  orchestra.  Before  each  performance  the  University 
chimes  rang  the  Hymn  to  Indiana,  composed  by  the  late  Charles 
Diven  Campbell,  '98,  in  December,  1915,  and  used  in  the  pageant 
of  Bloomington  and  Indiana  University  in  1916.  The  parts  were 
taken  by  members  of  the  faculty  and  students  of  Indiana  University, 
by  their  families,  and  by  the  citizens  of  Bloomington. 

The  first  episode  was  symbolical,  introducing  Education  and 
her  Influences,  the  earlier  and  later  Colonists,  Washington,  Franklin, 
Jefferson,  America,  Success,  and  groups  of  various  types  and  classes. 
The  second  episode  reproduced  almost  exactly  an  episode  in  the  1916 
pageant,  in  which  the  first  professor,  Baynard  R.  Hall,  the  first 
Board  of  Trustees,  the  earliest  students  in  Indiana  Seminary,  Gov- 
ernor Ray,  and  various  parents  of  pupils  appeared  in  speaking  parts. 
The  third  episode  returned  to  the  symbolical.  New  figures  ap- 
peared: the  State  of  Indiana,  Indiana  University,  Difficulties,  Arts, 
Pure  Learning,  Applied  Learning,  Play,  Inspiration,  soldiers,  Presi- 
dents Andrew  Wylie,  David  Starr  Jordan,  and  William  Lowe  Bryan. 
The  dialogue  in  the  fourth  scene  represented  commencement  day, 
with  a  long  procession  of  seniors.  A  representative  of  a  business 
concern  appeared  on  the  scene  and  carried  off  the  promising  young 
scholar  who  had  planned  to  go  into  educational  work,  as  well  as  the 
affable  young  man  who  had  "just  got  by",  and  who,  by  the  way, 
was  promised  a  larger  salary  in  business  than  the  promising  young 
scholar  was  to  receive  in  education.  Thereupon  followed  a  serious 
dialogue  between  some  members  of  the  faculty  on  the  future  of 
American  education.  The  last  episode,  called  The  Greater  Victory, 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  313 

introduced  new  figures:  War,  the  Years  of  War,  Europe  and  her 
Nations,  Peace,  the  Years  of  Peace,  and  crowds  of  workers.  The 
pageant  ended  with  a  great  procession,  led  by  Education  and  Suc- 
cess. 

The  costumes  of  leading  characters  and  of  the  dancers  were 
very  beautiful,  and  the  many  colors  on  the  background  of  green  were 
most  effective  in  the  warm  sunshine.  Scores  of  joyous,  graceful 
dancers  appeared  in  the  symbolic  scenes,  dressed,  as  the  Student 
reporter  said,  "in  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  and  many  which 
were  never  seen  in  any  rainbow". 

At  seven  o'clock  a  band  concert  was  followed  by  a  community 
songfest  held  in  the  campus  amphitheater.  A  reception  by  President 
Bryan  and  the  faculty,  in  honor  of  the  seniors  and  alumni,  held 
in  the  Student  Building,  concluded  the  day's  festivities. 

Wednesday,  designated  as  Class  Day,  was  a  busy  day  for  the 
alumni.    The  alumnae  gathered  in  the  Auditorium  of  the  Student 
Building  to  take  breakfast  with  the  women  of  the  senior  and  junior 
classes  and  with  the  women  of  the  faculty  and  the  wives  of  faculty 
members.    Dr.  Cora  B.  Hennel,  '07,  assistant  professor  of  mathe- 
matics,  as  toastmistress  introduced  Dorothy    Donald,  a  junior, 
who  spoke  briefly  on  what  lies  ahead  of  the  University  in  the 
next  hundred  years.     Mrs.  Frances  Morgan  Swain,  wife  of  for- 
mer President  Joseph  Swain,  gave  reminiscences  of  her  days  in  the 
University  as  a  student.    Cordelia  Smith,  '17,  of  New  Albany,  in 
her  toast  urged  that  the  alumni  serve  the  University.       She  men- 
tioned some  specific  things  which  alumnae  associations  of  graduates 
can  do:  arouse  interest  in  extension  courses  in  towns  where  such  are 
offered;  try  to  get  the  good  high  school  students,  not  the  poor  ones, 
to  come  to  Indiana  University.    She  told  of  a  New  Albany  high 
school  boy,  a  very  weak  student,  who  came  to  Bloomington  to 
attend  a  University  athletic  contest  and  came  back  home,  pledged 
to  a  fraternity.    His  athletic  ability  was  bringing  him  to  the  Uni- 
versity— nothing  else.     Another  thing  that  alumnae  might   work 
for  was  more  recognition  of  the  women*professors  in  the  University. 
As    an    instance    of  the  lack  of  recognition,  altho    in  a    minor 
matter,  she  mentioned  the  fact  that  at  the  reception  given  by 
the  faculty  the  night  before,  not  a  woman  professor  was  in  the 
long  receiving  line.     Mrs.  Benjamin  F.  Long  (Lucy  Nichols,  '01) 
emphasized    the   pleasurable  associations   of  college   life.      Dean 
Agnes    E.    Wells   outlined    rooming   conditions   for  women   stu- 
dents, speaking  of  furnishing  the  dormitory  and  another  house 
for    women    students,    under    University    management.      Mrs. 


314  Indiana  University 

George  Ball,  of  Muncie,  wife  of  one  of  the  University  trustees, 
made  last  fall  a  gift  of  $1,000,  which  was  used  to  furnish  the  dor- 
mitory. In  March,  Mrs.  Charlotte  Lowe  Bryan,  '88,  made  a 
gift  of  $500  for  gift  scholarships  and  $500  for  cooperative  house 
furnishings.  These  were  announced  with  other  gifts  on  Com- 
mencement Day.  Miss  Wells  told  of  plans  for  housing  fresh- 
men next  year,  keeping  them  as  far  as  practical  out  of  sorority 
houses  and  putting  them  in  University-controlled  houses  in  the 
hope  of  creating  a  better  University  spirit.  Two  more  houses 
will  be  leased,  one  to  be  cooperative,  with  expenses  reduced  to  a 
minimum.  Miss  Wells  hoped  that  gifts  of  money  might  provide 
for  the  furnishing  of  the  cooperative  house  in  order  that  the  girls 
participating  need  not  pay  interest  on  borrowed  money.  Before  the 
meeting  closed  the  following  gifts  of  money  for  this  purpose  were 
made  or  pledged:  Mrs.  Benjamin  F.  Long,  Logansport,  $250; 
Mary  E.  Cox,  '95,  Elwood,  $25;  Ruth  R.  Maxwell,  '07,  Oak  Park, 
111.,  $25;  Carrie  Ong,  '12,  Columbus,  $25;  Mrs.  William  E.  Jenkins 
(Charles  Anna  Moore,  '92),  Bloomington,  $25;  Mrs.  Samuel  E. 
Smith  (Martha  Rogers,  ex-'81),  Richmond,  $25;  Mrs.  Ernest  Rails- 
bach  (Irene  Neal,  ex-'ll),  Boston,  Mass.,  $25;  Anna  R.  Clark,  '15, 
Bloomington,  $25;  Dean  Agnes  E.  Wells  (will  collect),  $250. 

Dean  Wells  also  spoke  of  scholarship  funds.  During  the  past 
year  Mrs.  Elizabeth  C.  Marmon,  of  Indianapolis,  gave  $1,000,  $700 
of  which  is  to  be  used  as  loan  scholarships  without  interest,  and 
$300,  later  increased  by  $222.10  from  other  sources,  used  as  student 
aid.  At  the  meeting  the  following  sums  were  pledged  for  gift 
scholarships:  Mrs.  Joseph  Swain,  Swarthmore  College,  $250;  Mrs. 
James  William  Fesler,  Indianapolis,  $250;  Mrs.  James  A.  Wood- 
burn,  Bloomington,  $50;  Assistant  Professor  Edna  Johnson,  '98, 
Bloomington,  $50;  Assistant  Professor  Elizabeth  Sage,  Blooming- 
ton,  $50;  Mrs.  Edgar  Hiatt  (Katherine  F.  Schaefer,  '98),  Richmond, 
$50;  Lucile  Clevenger,  '19,  Anderson,  $25;  Mrs.  George  Shortle, 
(Helen  R.  Shirk,  '02),  Tipton,  $50;  Fannie  Belle  Maxwell,  '81, 
Lake  Forest,  111.,  $25;  Etelka  J.  Rockenbach,  '05,  New  Albany,  $25; 
Mrs.  Alfred  M.  Brooks  (Ruth  Steele,  '10),  Bloomington,  $25;  Mrs. 
Frank  M.  Andrews  (Marie  Opperman,  '02),  Bloomington,  $25; 
Cordelia  Smith,  '17,  New  Albany,  $25;  Hattie  Listenfelt,  '07,  Chi- 
cago, 111.,  $25;  Jean  Bond,  ex-'09,  Newcastle,  $25;  Mrs.  Robert 
Rossow  (Ethel  Simmons,  '06),  Culver,  $25;  Mrs.  James  K.  Beck 
(Lena  Margaret  Adams,  '76),  Bloomington,  $25;  Mrs.  Henry  B. 
Veatch,  Evansville,  $25;  Mrs.  Frank  H.  Hatfield,  Evansville,  $25; 
Mrs.  Frank  H.  Hatfield  (will  collect),  $250. 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  315 

At  a  meeting  of  the  University  women  held  at  the  close  of  the 
convocation  on  Thursday,  the  purchase  of  three  Steele  paintings 
with  $1,100  raised  during  the  year  as  a  Centennial  thank  offering 
was  authorized. 

A  state-wide  committee  of  alumnae — one  woman  in  each  con- 
gressional district — was  chosen  by  Miss  Wells  to  attempt  to  do  cer- 
tain things  in  their  districts, — among  other  things,  to  encourage 
scholarship,  in  some  cases  by  working  with  chapters  of  the  Associa- 
tion of  Collegiate  Alumnae;  to  advertise  the  University,  to  enter- 
tain high  school  seniors  once  or  twice  each  year,  and  to  inform  the 
University  of  promising  prospective  students.  The  committee  sug- 
gested that  the  gift  scholarships  be  awarded  thru  competitive  ex- 
amination, subjects  to  be  determined  later.  The  committee  ap- 
pointed follows:  Mrs.  Ruth  Steele  Brooks,  '10,  Bloomington; 
Mrs.  Frank  Hatfield,  Evansville;  Cordelia  Smith,  '17,  New  Albany; 
Vida  Newsom,  '03,  Columbus;  Mabel  Ryan,  '99,  Terre  Haute; 
Mrs.  Katherine  Schaefer  Hiatt,  '98,  Richmond;  Mrs.  Grace  Rawles 
Wheeler,  '91,  Indianapolis;  Evangeline  E.  Lewis,  '94,  Pendleton; 
Mrs.  Lela  Todd  Boyd,  '10,  Kokomo;  Mrs.  Zella  Wiseman  Atkinson, 
'09,  Gary;  Flora  E.  Purviance,  '99,  Huntington;  Marjorie  Suter, 
'17,  Ft.  Wayne;  Mrs.  Ethel  Simmons  Rossow,  '06,  Culver;  Dean 
Agnes  E.  Wells,  Indiana  University. 

A  second  meeting  of  the  Alumni  Council  was  held  during  the 
morning,  when  plans  for  raising  an  alumni  endowment  were  dis- 
cussed. A  committee  composed  of  Lillian  Gay  Berry,  '99,  of  Bloom- 
ington; Benjamin  F.  Adams,  '83,  of  Bloomington;  and  Oscar  H. 
Williams,  '05,  of  Indianapolis,  was  appointed  to  chose,  in  conference 
with  President  Bryan,  a  new  Alumni  Secretary  to  succeed  Humph- 
rey M.  Barbour,  '15,  who  had  resigned,  resignation  to  be  effective 
June  5. 

At  noon,  class  luncheons  were  held  on  the  campus.  Since  all 
alumni  were  urged  to  return  for  the  Centennial  commencement,  no 
special  class  luncheons  were  arranged  beforehand,  the  matter  being 
left  to  the  returning  alumni.  The  University  cafeteria  served  the 
lunches.  About  350  persons  participated.  Some  classes  made  their 
presence  known  by  yells  and  songs;  one  (1915)  by  wearing  orange 
festoons.  The  list  of  classes  holding  luncheons  is  reported  as  fol- 
lows: 1869,  5;  1879,  7;  1881,  12;  1883,  12;  1890,26;  1892,  5;  1894, 
10; 1900,  8; 1906,  13; 1910,  15; 1912,  20; 1913, 20; 1914, 15; 1915,  40; 
1916,  35 ;  1917,  25 ;  1919,  40.  (Some  of  these  figures  include  children 
of  alumni.)  The  class  of  1883  reported  a  breakfast  held  at  the  home 


316  Indiana  University 

of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Benjamin  F.  Adams,  with  Dr.  Jordan  and  Dr. 
Swain  as  guests. 

The  faculty-senior  baseball  game,  postponed  from  Monday, 
was  played  in  the  forenoon,  resulting  in  a  victory  for  the  faculty, 
10  to  9.  The  line-up  included  the  following:  faculty — Rauschen- 
bach  (student  catcher) ,  McNutt,  Morgan,  Cogshall,  Rathbun,  Lee, 
Treat,  Stiehm,  Schlafer;  senior — Bowers,  Moss,  Hartzell,  Byrum, 
Parker,  Hiatt,  Lee,  Carson,  Reed,  Michaelson,  Bergdoll.  The  final 
game  of  the  inter-fraternity  baseball  series  was  also  played  on 
Wednesday,  resulting  in  a  victory  for  the  Phi  Kappa  Psis  over  the 
Sigma  Nus,  5  to  4. 

The  second  performance  of  the  pageant  was  given  at  four 
o'clock.  The  weather  was  ideal,  the  bright  sunshine  bringing  out 
beautifully  the  coloring  in  the  symbolic  scenes.  During  this  per- 
formance of  the  pageant,  a  U.S.  army  airplane  from  Indianapolis 
flew  above  the  campus,  looping  the  loop  nad  performing  other 
stunts. 

The  alumni  dinner  on  the  campus  was  a  delightful  occasion. 
The  almost  triangular  section  of  campus  lying  between  the  Kirk- 
wood  avenue  driveway,  the  Student  Building,  and  the  Library  was 
hedged  in  with  green  boughs,  and  Japanese  lanterns  were  strung 
above  the  branches.  The  University  band  furnished  the  music.  No 
speeches  were  arranged  for  because  it  would  have  been  impossible 
for  the  diners  to  hear.  Five  hundred  alumni  enjoyed  this  occasion, 
and  many  were  unable  to  attend  because  they  did  not  make  reserva- 
tions in  time.  After  the  dinner  the  guests  mingled  with  each  other 
and  greeted  alumni  who  had  come  in  too  late  for  class  luncheons  at 
noon.  Altogether  it  was  one  of  the  most  delightful  affairs  of  the 
week. 

An  informal  reception  and  dance  in  the  Men's  Gymnasium 
closed  the  day's  festivities. 

Frank  L.  Jones,  '98,  of  Indianapolis,  presided  over  the  All- 
University  convocation  on  Thursday  morning,  the  program  of  which 
was  in  charge  of  the  Indiana  Union.  He  introduced  Mrs.  Mary 
Maxwell  Shryer,  daughter  of  Dr.  David  Hervey  Maxwell,  who  might 
be  called  the  founder  of  Indiana  University.  She  presented  to  the 
University  a  wreath  of  flowers,  saying: 

In  the  memory  of  my  father,  Dr.  Maxwell,  the  president  of  the  first  Board  of 
Trustees  of  Indiana  University;  in  memory  of  Dr.  Andrew  Wylie,  the  first  presi- 
dent; in  memory  of  my  brother,  Dr.  James  Darwin  Maxwell,  '33;  in  memory  of 
Miss  Sarah  P.  Morrison,  '69,  the  first  woman  to  graduate  from  the  University; 
in  the  memory  of  the  professors,  especially  those  whom  I  have  known  personally, 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  317 

Drs.  Wylie,  Owen,  Ballantine,  Kirkwood,  Van  Nuys,  Atwater,  and  Boisen;  and 
in  the  memory  of  the  students  of  those  days  who  have  joined  the  poet's  innumer- 
able caravan,  I  dedicate  from  all  of  us  this  wreath  of  flowers. 

Mrs.  Otto  Rott  (Anna  G.  Cravens,  '01),  Indiana  state  treasurer 
of  the  Daughters  of  the  American  Revolution,  presented  to  the  Uni- 
versity an  Indiana  state  flag.  She  told  how  Indiana  had  had  no 
state  flag  until  1917,  when  the  legislature  adopted  one  submitted  by 
the  D.A.R. 

Albert  Stump,  '12,  of  Indianapolis,  announced  that  the  alumni 
association  of  the  Indiana  Club  had  established  a  loan  fund, 
amounting  to  more  than  $500,  in  memory  of  two  members — Ber- 
tram W.  Pickhardt,  ex-'12,  of  Huntingburg,  and  Oman  J.  Six,  '13,  of 
Gwynneville,  who  died  during  the  war,  one  in  action  and  the  other 
in  camp  of  pneumonia-influenza.  The  fund  is  to  be  known  as  the 
Pickhardt-Six  Memorial  Loan  Fund. 

Dr.  David  Starr  Jordan,  president  of  the  University  from  1885 
to  1891,  now  chancellor  emeritus  of  Leland  Stanford  Junior  Univer- 
sity, spoke  in  a  reminiscent  vein  for  a  time,  and  then  tumed  to  his 
theme,  "The  only  way  out  is  forward."  He  spoke  of  the  University 
in  Dunn's  Woods,  when  there  were  only  two  buildings — Wylie  and 
Owen  Halls.  There  were  135  students,  but  "there  were  giants  in 
those  days."  In  1883,  he,  then  professor  of  zoology,  and  members 
of  the  senior  class  took  a  two  weeks'  tramp  in  the  Cumberland 
Mountains.  The  last  time  he  was  here  was  just  before  the  war.  He 
tried  to  believe,  he  said,  that  it  was  honorable  for  America  to  keep 
out  of  the  war,  but  when  we  declared  war  he  gave  this  message  to 
the  press:  "We  are  now  in  the  war  and  the  only  way  out  is  for- 
ward." He  went  on  to  say  that  we  cannot  stay  aloof  from  the 
rest  of  the  world  now,  and  that  any  league  of  nations  is  better  than 
none.  The  foundations  of  America  are  solid,  but  the  penalty  of 
solidity  is  service  to  others.  When  a  great  part  of  the  world  is 
stricken  with  starvation,  with  disease,  America's  mission  is  the 
greatest  since  the  Civil  War,  and  duty  points  forward. 

In  introducing  Enoch  A.  Bryan,  '78,  commissioner  of  education 
of  the  state  of  Idaho,  Mr.  Jones  said  that  he  knew  four  Bryans,  three 
of  whom  had  been  presidents  and  one  who  tried  to  be.  Dr.  E.  A. 
Bryan,  formerly  president  of  the  Washington  State  College,  spoke 
of  the  significance  of  the  hundred  years  just  past.  Indiana  Uni- 
versity, he  said,  was  practically  the  first  of  its  class.  Some  of  the 
so-called  state  universities  which  were  founded  earlier  were  different 
in  organization,  management,  and  purpose.  Some  of  their  govern- 
ing boards  were  self-perpetuating,  and  the  institutions  were  some- 


318  Indiana  University 

what  monastic  in  character.  Indiana  University  represented  the 
state  and  national  ideal  in  education  and  it  received  both  state  and 
national  support.  It  stands  for  education  for  the  people,  and  is  a 
part  of  the  state  school  system.  If  it  is  to  rise  to  the  full  measure 
of  its  usefulness,  if  it  is  to  hold  its  own  against  competitors,  it  must 
have  behind  it  the  resources  of  the  state.  In  his  message  to  the 
alumni  he  urged  them  to  become  conscious  of  their  relationship  to 
the  entire  nation.  Again,  professional  men  going  out  must  feel 
consciously  the  support  of  their  Alma  Mater. 

The  next  speaker,  Joseph  Swain,  '83,  now  president  of  Swarth- 
more  College,  president  of  Indiana  University  from  1893  to  1902, 
set  forth  what  he  thought  the  students  of  Indiana  University  can 
do  to  promote  its  program.  The  first  thing  is  to  develop  into  the 
greatest  men  and  women  possible.  Opportunities,  he  said,  are  much 
greater  today  than  in  his  younger  days.  Mr.  E.  H.  Gary  gave  as 
his  basis  for  determining  the  salary  rating  of  a  man  these  four 
things:  integrity,  good  judgment,  ability  to  work,  and  the  habit  of 
success.  These,  Dr.  Swain  said,  might  be  near  objects  of  education. 
The  desire  to  succeed  must  be  accompanied  by  the  desire  to  serve. 
Herbert  Hoover  in  his  college  career  did  not  wish  to  study  anything 
except  that  conducive  to  the  making  of  a  great  engineer,  but  later 
he  heard  the  call  to  feed  the  Belgians  and  he  followed  the  call.  It 
is  all  very  well  to  start  out  to  be  a  great  engineer  but  one  should  obey 
calls  to  service.  The  second  thing  which  the  students  can  do  is  to 
spread  the  gospel  of  higher  education  all  over  the  state.  A  college 
president  has  said  that  the  college  trained  man  has  250  times  the 
advantage  over  the  untrained  man.  Dr.  Swain  then  presented  some 
figures  to  show  the  capitalized  value  of  higher  education.  In  the 
third  place,  he  said,  the  students  should  realize  more  fully  the 
privileges  which  the  state  gives  them  and  should  pay  them  back  in 
some  financial  way.  Do  not,  he  said,  be  satisfied  with  presenting 
the  matter  to  the  legislature,  but  present  it  to  your  own  hearts  and 
minds.  Swarthmore  College,  one-half  as  old,  and  with  only  a  frac- 
tion of  our  number  of  students  and  alumni,  has  raised  $3,500,000 
in  the  last  eighteen  years.  Indiana  University  alumni  and  students 
have  not  begun  to  appreciate  the  value  of  what  they  have  received 
and  are  not  awake  to  their  obligations. 

Mr.  Jones,  the  chairman,  introduced  Walter  H.  Crim,  '02,  of 
Salem,  who  presented  the  Rose  Loving  Cup  (donated  by  the  late 
Theodore  F.  Rose,  '75,  to  be  awarded  each  year  to  the  class  having 
the  largest  percentage  of  living  members  present)  to  the  class  of  '83. 
Clarence  L.  Goodwin,  of  Greensburg,  Pa.,  responded  with  reminis- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  319 

cences  of  the  two  weeks'  tramp  in  the  Cumberland  Mountains  under 
the  chaperonage  of  Dr.  Jordan,  and  of  the  reunion  held  in  the  Yose- 
mite  valley  five  years  ago  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  David  A.  Curry 
(Jennie  Foster).  He  said  he  wished  to  acknowledge  to  the  Uni- 
versity a  debt  of  gratitude,  to  pay  a  tribute  of  love  to  the  teachers 
of  the  early  eighties,  and  to  reassert  gratitude  and  loyalty  to  the 
University.  Following  Mr.  Goodwin's  talk  the  class  gave  the  fol- 
lowing yell:  "Indiana,  Indiana,  Dr.  Jordan,  Dr.  Jordan,  Cumber- 
land Gap,  Cumberland  Gap,  Yosemite,  Yosemite,  Centennial,  Cen- 
tennial, Indiana,  Indiana,  Eighty-three,  Eighty -three." 

In  the  afternoon  Indiana  won  from  her  old  rival,  Purdue,  6  to 
5,  playing  before  what  was  probably  the  largest  crowd  which  ever 
witnessed  a  baseball  game  at  Indiana  University. 

The  last  performance  of  the  pageant  took  place  between  four 
and  six  o'clock. 

In  the  evening  the  band  gave  another  concert  and  there  was 
community  singing  on  Jordan  Field. 

Judge  Andrew  A.  Bruce,  recently  chief  justice  of  the  supreme 
court  of  North  Dakota,  addressed  the  Law  School  seniors  in  As- 
sembly Hall.  He  spoke  on  "The  Obligations  of  the  State  toward 
the  Legal  Education  of  Its  Citizens".  The  American  ideal  of  gov- 
ernment, Judge  Bruce  pointed  out  with  frequent  illustrations,  has 
been  that  of  government  by  law,  and  not  government  by  men,  or 
government  by  temporary  majorities.  But  we  have  given  the  ballot 
to  everyone.  We  have  the  initiative,  the  referendum,  and  the  recall. 
Everyone  may  vote  on  constitutional  questions,  anyone  can  be 
elected  to  public  office,  and  anyone  may  be  a  lawmaker.  The 
majority  is  all-powerful.  Whether  we  shall  have  property  or  lib- 
erty is  after  all  for  the  majority  to  decide.  Yet  the  average  voter 
knows  nothing  of  the  history  and  the  growth  of  our  laws.  He 
knows  nothing  of  the  centuries  of  trial  and  suffering  and  experience 
that  are  crystallized  in  every  line  of  our  constitution.  He  knows 
nothing  of  the  duties  of  our  courts  and  of  the  functions  that  they 
serve.  Somewhere  in  our  educational  system  we  should  furnish  an 
opportunity  for  all  to  acquire  the  knowledge  which  all  should  have 
for  the  welfare  of  the  state.  In  these  days  a  state  university,  acting 
thru  its  law  school,  must  do  more  than  merely  train  practicing 
lawyers.  It  must  be  a  school  of  jurisprudence;  it  must  be  a  school 
of  Americanism.  It  must  educate  legally  trained  leaders  who  can 
guide  the  social  advance.  We  cannot  safely  play  at  politics  or  at 
government  any  longer.  For  the  sake  of  the  public  welfare  our 
democracy  must  become  legally  intelligent. 


320  Indiana  University 

Following  his  address  there  was  an  informal  reception  by  the 
senior  law  class  in  Maxwell  Hall.  In  the  Men's  Gymnasium,  an 
informal  reception  with  dancing  and  stunts  by  the  Cosmopolitan 
Club  closed  the  festivities. 

Rain  on  Friday  morning  necessitated  holding  the  graduation 
exercises  in  the  Men's  Gymnasium,  instead  of  outdoors  as  in  recent 
years.  This  change  worked  an  advantage  in  at  least  one  respect — 
the  audience  could  hear  the  speakers  much  better  than  they  could 
have  heard  them  in  the  campus  amphitheater.  An  innovation  in  the 
music  this  year  was  the  singing  of  two  hymns  by  the  audience,  led 
by  the  University  chorus  and  orchestra :  The  Hundredth  Psalm  and 
The  Battle  Hymn  of  the  Republic.  Rev.  William  Burrows,  lector 
of  the  Episcopal  Church  in  Bloomington,  pronounced  the  invocation, 
and  Rev.  Joseph  C.  Todd,  head  of  the  Indiana  School  of  Religion 
(formerly  the  Bible  Chair  Hall  of  the  Christian  church),  gave 
the  benediction. 

About  ten  days  before  commencement,  Major-General  Leonard 
Wood,  who  had  been  engaged  to  give  the  chief  address  of  the  day, 
canceled  his  engagement  because  of  the  pressure  of  political  affairs. 

The  three  former  living  presidents  of  the  University — David 
Starr  Jordan,  1885-91,  John  Merle  Coulter,  1891-93,  and  Joseph 
Swain,  1893-1902 — were  present  and  each  delivered  a  brief  address. 
In  introducing  Dr.  Jordan,  President  Bryan  used  the  lines  of  Gold- 
smith descriptive  of  the  village  preacher: 

As  some  tall  cliff  that  lifts  its  awful  form, 
Swells  from  the  vale,  and  midway  leaves  the  storm, 
Though  round  its  breast  the  rolling  clouds  are  spread, 
Eternal  sunshine  settles  on  its  head. 

Dr.  Jordan's  address  was  largely  reminiscent  of  the  days  in 
which  he  was  professor  (1879-84)  and  as  president  (1885-91). 

DAVID  STARR  JORDAN 

The  great  growth  of  the  University  makes  me  but  feel  that  my 
place  is  back  among  the  early  founders,  not  far  from  the  days  in 
which  one  professor  and  the  president  completed  the  faculty.  In 
those  days  the  president  and  the  professor  once  met  on  a  foot-log 
which  crossed  the  stream  on  the  main  street  of  the  town.  Neither 
would  budge  and  the  president  elbowed  the  professor  into  the  brook. 
And  speaking  of  the  brook,  I  once  reminded  the  Board  of  Trustees 
that  they  need  name  no  building  for  me;  I  asked  only  that  this 
brook,  coming  thru  what  was  then  the  new  campus,  should  be 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  321 

called  the  River  Jordan.  And  this  was  done,  but  they  did  still  bet- 
ter, for  the  meadow  across  the  brook  they  named  Jordan  Field. 
There  is  one  joy  in  being  numbered  with  the  "has-beens"  of  the 
academic  world,  the  alors  celebres  of  the  French  historians.  That 
is,  one  may  look  over  the  scenes  of  life  with  no  worries  for  the 
future  and  no  sting  for  the  past.  What  is  done  is  done  and  the 
future  belongs  to  the  others. 

As  I  look  over  my  part  in  the  history  of  Indiana  University,  I 
feel  that  I  was  in  a  position  to  lay  a  solid  foundation  for  its  advance. 
My  first  act  was  to  loosen  up  the  bonds  of  tradition,  to  develop 
courses  of  study  which  should  justify  themselves  by  leading  to  real 
scholarship.  No  scholarship  worthy  of  the  name  comes  from 
unwilling  work.  A  ready-made  course  of  study  is  the  acme  of  ped- 
agogic laziness.  It  is  like  a  ready-made  suit  which  fits  nobody. 

Before  my  day,  the  president  had  in  his  office  a  blackboard  three 
feet  square  on  which  was  indicated  the  whole  curriculum  for  the 
term.  Everything  was  cut  and  dried,  representing  as  Agassiz  used 
to  say  "the  dregs  of  learning". 

In  1885  we  relegated  all  these  subjects  to  the  freshman  and 
sophomore  years  and  filled  the  last  two  with  advanced  work  in 
those  fields  in  which  we  were  able  to  develop  it.  As  mental  train- 
ing, advanced  work  is  far  superior  to  elementary  subjects,  and  the 
fact  that  advanced  training  in  science,  history,  languages,  philo- 
sophy, could  be  had  at  Bloomington  soon  brought  a  series  of  very 
strong  students.  Indeed,  for  the  number,  I  doubt  if  any  other  insti- 
tution had  so  large  a  percentage  of  able  and  original  men  and  women 
as  came  to  Indiana  in  those  days. 

And  the  general  attendance  began  to  grow.  When  I  became 
president  on  January  1,  1885,  there  were  but  135  students  enrolled 
in  college  classes.  In  the  preparatory  school  were  as  many  more, 
but  these  were  soon  discharged,  turned  over  to  the  Bloomington 
high  school,  thus  establishing  the  proper  relation  of  the  University 
to  the  high  schools  over  the  state. 

Dr.  Coulter  and  I  had  fought  in  many  an  arena,  or,  as  we  used 
to  say,  on  the  "bloody  sands  of  education"  for  freedom  of  choice, 
the  element  of  consent  in  education.  This  involved  a  plea  for 
scientific  training,  not  as  against  any  other,  but  as  a  means  of  grace 
and  development  to  those  who  found  little  digestible  material  in  the 
old  prescribed  courses  of  the  classics. 

We  made  no  attack  on  the  classics  for  those  who  could  use 
them.  As  Thoreau  once  said,  "Those  only  talk  of  forgetting  the 
Greek  who  never  knew  it."  But  for  freedom  to  choose  we  had 


322  Indiana  University 

urged  in  season  and  out  of  season,  and  this  was  my  opportunity  for 
making  it  go.  And  it  went  successfully.  Next,  the  problem  of 
choice  of  professors  became  important.  And  in  this,  after  some 
not  too  successful  experiments,  I  adopted  the  plan  of  choosing  the 
most  promising  of  our  alumni,  promising  them  positions,  when, 
after  study  in  the  East  or  in  Europe,  they  were  prepared  for  them. 

The  first  of  these  thus  chosen  was  Horace  A.  Hoffman  in 
Greek,  now  completing  his  thirty-fifth  year  of  service.  Next  came 
Joseph  Swain  in  mathematics,  James  A.  Woodburn  in  history,  Wil- 
liam Lowe  Bryan  in  philosophy,  Allan  B.  Philputt  in  Latin,  Robert 
E.  Lyons  in  chemistry,  Arthur  L.  Foley  in  physics,  Rufus  L.  Green 
in  mathematics,  and  somewhat  later,  Carl  H.  Eigenmann  in  zo- 
ology, William  A.  Rawles  in  economics,  David  M.  Mottier  in  botany, 
Ernest  H.  Lindley  in  psychology,  John  A.  Miller  and  Robert  J. 
Aley  in  mathematics,  and  others  whom  for  the  moment  I  may  have 
overlooked. 

This  plan  served  like  a  breath  of  fresh  air.  All  these  were 
students  of  eminence,  thoro  and  devoted.  They  were  in  sym- 
pathy with  new  ideas  in  education,  and  perhaps,  best  of  all,  they 
were  intensely  and  wholly  loyal  to  the  University's  best  interests. 
In  early  days  the  young  men  in  education  made  a  hard  struggle  for 
the  recognition  of  advanced  work.  But  when  the  time  came  the 
change  seemed  easy,  and  with  the  loosening  of  academic  traditions 
came  the  great  increase  in  influence  and  power  the  colleges  have 
today.  Jerome  K.  Jerome,  in  England,  once  said  that  the  young 
men  butt  their  heads  against  a  stone  wall  and  find  it  easy  to  break 
thru  if  enough  young  men  before  them  have  butted  hard  enough. 
In  these  days,  it  dawned  on  us  that  Indiana  was  the  land  of  poets. 
Not  only  was  there  the  incomparable  Riley,  but  every  county  had 
its  own  poet,  usually  one  whose  songs  were  worth  hearing.  One 
of  our  Indiana  men,  Alvin  Heiney,  I  believe,  voiced  the  common 
feeling  when,  on  declining  any  front  seat  or  place  in  the  celestial 
choir,  he  asked  only  for  "a  place  on  the  bleachers  where  ten  thous- 
and Hoosier  poets  sit". 

In  those  early  days  I  used  to  go  about  the  state,  speaking  in 
every  county  seat  on  the  value  of  higher  education.  Whenever  I 
could,  I  used  to  take  Will  Bryan  with  me  and  in  silver  tones  he  used 
to  intensify  my  message.  He  used  to  tell  the  people  of  his  father's 
farm  in  Monroe  county,  a  spring  in  each  field  flowing  downwards 
toward  a  large  stream  "which  drew  after  it  a  retinue  of  brooks  as 
noble  as  those  of  the  Nile  or  the  Jordan".  And  the  current  of  learn- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  323 

ing  once  in  motion  in  Indiana  could  draw  a  retinue  of  noble  souls, 
as  worthy  and  as  devoted  as  in  any  other  academy,  no  mattei  where 
located. 

Each  time  as  I  visit  these  institutions  of  the  West  I  am  im- 
pressed with  the  future  stability  of  our  democracy.  Wisdom  is  at 
the  hand  of  whoever  will  take  it.  From  our  state  colleges  and  uni- 
versities upwards  of  30,000  men  and  women  will  graduate  this 
month.  The  privilege  of  knowing  is  confined  to  no  caste  nor  class. 
There  is  no  "class  consciousness"  in  democracy.  We  are  all — as 
Justice  Marshall  said  long  ago,  of  one  class— "just  citizens". 

Few  of  us  realize  the  immense  advantage  this  gives  to  America. 
In  almost  every  other  nation,  the  right  to  know  is  a  caste  privilege. 
Only  those  of  the  right  class  can  be  entitled  to  education.  No 
nation  has  any  other  treasure  so  precious  as  the  talent  of  its  people, 
and  where  education  is  limited  by  caste,  so  much  of  the  native  talent 
goes  to  waste  untrained. 

The  essential  features  of  democracy  are  its  provision  for  free- 
dom, order,  and  justice — the  freedom  to  know  above  all  other  free- 
dom, and  justice  the  ultimate  purpose.  By  justice  we  mean  that 
condition  in  which  every  man  and  woman  shall  be  free  to  make  the 
most  out  of  life.  A  generous  education  should  be  the  birthright  of 
every  child  of  the  republic. 

There  is  essential  stability  in  the  democratic  nation  in  which 
discipline  springs  from  within,  as  compared  with  a  nation  in  which 
order  is  enforced  from  without,  and  in  which  the  citizen  is  not  the 
self -con  trolled  unit  of  government,  but  "a  brick  in  a  wall  not  know- 
ing the  nature  of  the  edifice  of  which  he  forms  part". 

Should  all  application  of  force  be  suddenly  drawn  from  America, 
the  stability  of  society  would  not  be  affected.  Should  compelling 
force  be  withdrawn  in  a  land  of  autocracy,  the  people  would  be  like 
sheep  in  a  storm,  not  knowing  what  to  do,  or  like  wild  horses  in  a 
prairie  fire,  doing  always  the  wrong  thing.  This  prophecy  I  pub- 
lished in  Belgium  in  1912,  but  I  had  no  expectation  of  seeing  it  so 
soon  verified. 

And  the  strength  of  this  country  will  all  be  needed  for  the  re- 
demption of  Europe.  The  last  time  I  spoke  in  Bloomington,  I  hoped 
that  our  nation  might  escape  the  waste,  the  strain,  the  demor- 
alization, the  loss  of  values,  which  always  follow  in  the  wake  of 
war.  But  this  proved  impossible.  We  cannot  get  peace  by  lying 
down.  We  could  not  stand  by  and  see  Britain  beaten  in  a  righteous 
cause.  Nor  could  we  see  Belgium  devoured  or  France  dismembered. 


324  Indiana  University 

When  three  years  ago  war  was  declared  I  gave  this  message  to  the 
press,  "We  are  now  in  the  war  and  the  only  way  out  is  forward." 

The  great  struggle's  enly  half  over,  and  our  special  part,  the 
restoration  of  the  value  of  human  life,  is  barely  yet  begun.  We 
cannot  separate  ourselves  from  humanity,  one-half  suffering  from 
starvation,  the  other  delirious  with  crazy  joy.  A  mad  world  and  a 
sad  world  in  the  aftermath  of  war. 

And  again  I  must  say — we  are  a  part  of  the  mangled  world — 
and  still  as  before,  "The  only  way  out  is  forward." 

John  Merle  Coulter,  head  of  the  department  of  botany  in  the 
University  of  Chicago,  was  the  next  speaker. 

JOHN  MERLE  COULTER 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  renew  my  contact  with  surroundings  that 
were  once  very  familiar.  During  nearly  twenty  years  of  college 
service  in  the  state,  many  of  the  faculty  of  Indiana  University  be- 
came my  intimate  associates,  so  that  my  sympathetic  connection  with 
the  University  extended  far  beyond  my  official  connection.  It  is 
not  for  me  to  speak  of  the  history  that  this  occasion  commemorates. 
This  is  a  matter  of  record,  a  record  of  which  you  may  well  be  proud. 
It  is  more  appropriate  that  I  should  speak  of  an  important  problem 
that  universities  are  facing,  whose  solution  will  be  a  part  of  your 
subsequent  history.  Men  should  face  forward,  backed  by  all  the 
assurance  that  history  can  give,  determined  that  the  future  shall  be 
worthy  of  the  past . 

THE  NEW  SPIRIT 

During  the  war  we  realized  that  our  country  experienced  a 
wonderful  tiansformation.  It  was  as  tho  we  had  awakened  sud- 
denly and  found  ourselves  in  a  new  world.  While  the  trans- 
formation in  our  mateiial  affairs  was  striking,  the  transformation 
in  the  spirit  of  men  and  women  was  most  impressive.  In  the  ex- 
periences thru  which  we  were  passing,  we  seemed  to  have  been 
born  again,  with  new  motives  and  a  new  outlook  on  life.  It  is  this 
new  spirit  I  wish  to  consider,  that  we  may  realize  what  it  is,  and 
whether  it  is  worth  preserving  now  that  the  stress  of  war  is  over. 
Is  it  a  spirit  that  is  worth  while  only  in  war,  or  is  it  also  the  most 
effective  spirit  in  peace  ?  Is  it  something  we  are  expected  to  lose  and 
go  back  to  our  old  ways,  or  is  it  really  a  rebirth,  a  spirit  that  has 
come  to  abide?  Is  it  something  we  need  only  for  a  special  occasion, 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  325 

or  is  it  something  that  we  have  always  needed  and  have  only  dis- 
covered the  need  thru  a  great  catastrophe?  The  most  important 
things  have  usually  come  to  the  world  thru  suffering.  Shall  we 
let  this  new  spirit  die  at  the  moment  of  its  birth,  or  shall  we  make  it 
strong  and  dominant? 

The  transformation  did  not  consist  in  the  fact  that  this  new 
spirit  was  unknown;  but  in  the  fact  that  it  was  no  longer  exemplified 
by  a  small  minority,  for  it  animated  the  overwhelming  majority.  In 
other  words,  it  was  not  the  rebirth  of  an  individual,  but  the  rebirth 
of  a  nation.  How  shall  we  define  this  spirit?  Perhaps  in  no  more 
concise  and  comprehensive  terms  than  to  call  it  the  spirit  of  coopera- 
tion and  service. 

You  are  familiar  with  the  expression  of  this  new  spirit  in  com- 
munities everywhere.  Thousands  of  men  and  women,  who  had 
been  thinking  only  of  their  own  selfish  interests,  were  born  again 
into  a  new  world  of  service.  They  came  to  think  of  life  as  they 
never  had  done  before,  and  they  enjoyed  it  as  they  never  did  before. 
They  discovered  the  pleasure  of  service,  the  sense  of  being  of  some 
use  in  the  world,  and  of  contributing  time  and  work  and  money  to  a 
great  cause.  If  this  same  devotion  had  always  been  alive,  the  world 
would  have  been  much  farther  along  in  its  progress.  Patriotism 
broke  down  the  barriers  of  selfishness,  and  our  old  motto,  each  for 
himself,  was  replaced  by  the  new  motto,  each  for  all.  In  the  period 
of  reconstruction  we  are  to  determine  whether  patriotic  cooperation 
shall  continue  or  whether  our  selfish  competition  shall  assert  itself 
again.  It  must  be  evident  to  all  that  the  spirit  of  selfish  competition 
was  responsible  for  the  war.  So  disastrous  a  result  should  banish 
that  spirit  forever  from  the  desires  of  men. 

To  take  advantage  of  this  lesson  and  to  train  a  new  generation 
into  the  spirit  of  cooperation  and  service  is  the  great  burden  laid 
upon  our  schools  and  colleges.  The  ordinary  curriculum  provides 
amply  for  imparting  facts,  for  developing  habits  of  mind,  for  culti- 
vating taste,  but  in  the  past  all  this  has  been  regarded  as  an  equip- 
ment for  what  is  often  called  the  "game  of  life",  which  usually 
means  a  competitive  game.  Such  education  is  necessary,  of  course, 
for  it  is  really  an  equipment,  but  it  has  not  saved  us  from  the 
disastrous  results  of  competition;  in  fact,  all  these  things  belonged 
to  Prussian  education,  and  we  see  how  this  equipment  was  used. 

Our  education  must  contain  something  more,  something  more 
fundamental  than  knowledge  and  taste.  It  must  contain  a  training 
in  spiiit,  the  spirit  of  cooperation  and  service.  Such  a  spirit  is  more 
important  to  the  progress  of  the  human  race  than  knowledge.  We 


326  Indiana  University 

were  shocked  by  war  into  the  exhibition  of  this  spirit,  forced  by 
disaster  into  allowing  it  to  dominate.  It  continued  to  live  as  long 
as  the  war  lasted,  but  it  is  our  problem  now  to  discover  what  has 
been  called  "a  moral  substitute  for  war",  something  that  will  arouse 
and  keep  alive  in  peace  the  same  fine  spiiit  that  the  war  aroused. 
This  is  the  great  problem  of  our  educational  institutions  today,  for 
they  are  molding  the  generation  that  will  be  conspicuous  in  the 
years  of  reconstruction. 

This  spirit  of  cooperation  and  service  has  a  wider  meaning  than 
to  develop  a  nation  into  its  maximum  strength  and  efficiency.  As 
citizens  of  a  nation  we  may  continue  to  work  with  each  other  and 
for  each  other,  but  if  we  confine  this  spirit  by  a  national  boundary 
we  have  advanced  only  one  step  in  cooperation.  It  would  be  like 
looking  at  an  eagle  in  a  cage,  when  we  know  that  its  best  expression 
is  called  out  in  freedom.  The  spirit  of  cooperation  and  service 
knows  no  national  boundaries,  but  seeks  its  expression  in  men  every- 
where. It  is  the  effective,  animating  spirit  of  the  human  race  as  a 
whole,  making  for  its  maximum  development. 

The  spirit  of  cooperation  is  the  spiiit  of  good-will.  Men  have 
developed  this  spirit  more  than  have  nations.  There  is  still  abun- 
dant selfishness  among  men,  but  when  we  compare  the  people  of 
today  with  those  of  a  century  ago,  and  realize  how  much  more  they 
are  interested  in  the  general  welfare,  as  shown  by  the  increasing 
organized  opportunities  to  serve  the  people,  we  realize  that  good- 
will among  men  has  been  growing,  and  is  expressing  itself  in- 
creasingly in  a  thousand  ways. 

With  nations,  however,  the  case  is  different.  International  re- 
lations have  continued  to  be  based  upon  selfishness.  "Get  all  you 
can  and  give  only  what  you  must",  is  the  international  motto.  It  is 
the  business  of  diplomacy  to  see  to  it  that  this  motto  is  followed. 
A  man  may  be  a  philanthropic  Christian  gentleman  among  his  asso- 
ciates, his  life  preaching  the  message  of  good-will,  but  when  called 
upon  to  act  for  his  country  in  its  relations  to  other  countries,  he 
ceases  to  be  either  philanthropic  or  Christian.  He  gets  what  he  can 
for  his  nation,  and  yields  only  what  he  must  to  other  nations.  It 
was  not  the  selfishness  of  men  that  brought  on  the  war,  but  the 
selfishness  of  nations,  and  the  sad  part  of  it  is  that  men  must  suffer 
for  the  sins  of  nations. 

But  a  nation  is  what  its  people  make  it.  If  the  people  cultivate 
good-will  in  their  own  living  and  emphasize  it,  a  nation  will  pres- 
ently begin  to  express  the  belief  of  its  people.  There  has  developed 
a  great  reservoir  of  good -will  among  men,  which  has  been  seldom 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  327 

drawn  upon,  but  in  our  crisis  there  was  such  an  outpouring  of  good- 
will, expressing  itself  in  service,  that  we  surprised  ourselves. 
Nations  also,  as  well  as  individuals,  learned  the  lesson  of  good-will 
and  mutual  service.  It  seemed  as  patriotic  to  serve  England, 
France,  or  Belgium  as  it  once  did  to  serve  ourselves  Can  these 
nations  ever  forget  the  stimulus  of  companionship  developed  by 
mutual  service  and  lapse  again  into  selfish  nationalism?  We  talk 
about  the  brotherhood  of  man  as  the  goal  of  Christianity,  but  this 
goal  will  never  be  reached  until  this  new  spirit  is  free  to  express 
itself,  and  it  never  will  express  itself  until  it  is  included  in  all 
education. 

It  may  be  claimed  that  we  have  been  teaching  this  spirit;  per- 
haps we  have,  but  the  methods  have  been  faulty  and  ineffective,  for 
the  results  have  not  been  large.  In  general,  so  far  as  we  have  been 
teaching  it  at  all,  it  has  been  by  talking,  by  exhortation.  We  have 
never  given  it  the  serious  attention  that  has  been  given  to  what  are 
regarded  as  the  formal  subjects,  the  things  that  train  the  mind.  If 
our  education  has  taught  us  anything  as  to  effective  methods  of 
teaching,  it  is  that  the  laboratory,  which  means  actual  contact  with 
material,  is  the  effective  method.  Have  we  developed  the  laboratory 
method  in  the  most  fundamental  phase  of  education,  the  training  of 
the  spirit?  If  it  is  of  fundamental  importance  that  young  men 
and  women  be  trained  in  the  spirit  of  cooperation  and  service,  what 
laboratory  opportunities  have  we  developed?  Every  institution  is 
a  human  laboratory,  full  of  diverse  material.  The  development  of 
cooperation  and  service  in  such  a  group  is  left  largely  to  individual 
initiative,  and  as  a  consequence  it  expresses  itself  chiefly  in  the 
segregation  of  a  number  of  congenial  groups.  The  spirit  of  coopera- 
tion and  service  has  nothing  in  common  with  congenial  groups;  its 
great  mission  is  with  uncongenial  groups. 

Habits  of  thought  are  formed  chiefly  during  the  period  of  edu- 
cation, and  habits  of  thought  are  largely  controlled  by  activities. 
It  is  one  thing  to  talk  about  cooperation,  and  another  thing  to 
cooperate;  it  is  one  thing  to  talk  about  the  beauty  of  service,  and 
quite  another  thing  to  render  service.  We  must  devise  methods 
in  connection  with  our  educational  programs  by  which  cooperation 
and  service  become  habits,  fixed  by  practice.  There  is  no  more  im- 
portant phase  of  education,  when  we  consider  the  future  of  the 
nation  and  of  the  human  race. 

This  principle  of  cooperation  applies  not  only  to  communities 
and  nations  and  the  human  race  as  a  whole,  but  also  to  the  indi- 
vidual, if  he  is  to  develop  his  maximum  strength  and  efficiency. 


328  Indiana  University 

The  individual  is  the  unit  in  a  community  or  nation,  and  therefore 
adds  to  or  subtracts  from  the  total  strength  and  efficiency.  It  is 
fundamental,  therefore,  that  each  unit  shall  obey  the  law  of  coopera- 
tion in  his  own  development. 

No  phrase  is  more  common  than  that  each  of  us  is  a  complex 
of  body,  mind,  and  spirit.  This  means  a  community,  which  lives 
either  in  competition  or  cooperation.  With  competition  the  result 
is  an  enfeebled  product;  with  cooperation  the  result  is  the  maximum 
strength  of  which  a  given  individual  is  capable.  In  your  individual 
development,  which  of  these  two  spirits  is  in  control? 

I  have  known  even  students  who  emphasize  the  body,  allowing 
it  to  compete  with  mind  and  spiril .  The  body  is  favored  at  the  ex- 
pense of  mind  and  spirit,  and  the  result  is  that  the  individual  be- 
comes either  a  professional  athlete,  which  would  probably  be  the 
most  desirable  result  in  such  a  case,  or  a  victim  of  vices.  The  result 
in  efficiency  as  a  citizen  you  realize.  The  maximum  strength  and 
efficiency  are  not  secured.  I  have  also  known  men  who  emphasize 
the  mind,  allowing  it  to  compete  with  body  and  spirit.  The  mind 
is  favored  at  the  expense  of  body  and  spirit.  These  are  the  so- 
called  "bookworms",  who  are  defeating  their  own  purpose  thru 
competition  with  the  body,  which  should  keep  the  mind  in  tone,  and 
also  thru  competition  with  the  spirit,  which  should  direct  and 
make  effective  their  mental  training.  The  result  is  certainly  far 
short  of  the  possibilities  of  the  initial  equipment. 

I  have  even  known  men  who  emphasize  the  spirit,  allowing  it  to 
compete  with  body  and  mind.  The  spirit  is  favored  at  the  expense 
of  body  and  mind,  especially  the  mind.  These  are  the  "fanatics", 
who  are  blocking  themselves  by  lack  of  bodily  or  mental  equip- 
ment, or  both.  No  one  would  regard  them  as  effective  citizens. 

Think  of  your  make-up  as  resembling  that  of  an  automobile. 
The  body  is  the  machine,  the  mind  is  the  motive  power,  and  the 
spirit  is  the  pilot.  Imagine  stressing  the  machine  and  paying  no 
attention  to  motive  power  or  pilot,  or  being  solicitous  about  the 
motive  power  and  disregarding  the  machine  and  pilot,  or  thinking 
only  of  the  pilot  and  letting  the  machine  and  motive  power  run 
down. 

I  have  gotten  into  the  habit  of  thinking  of  men  as  representing 
these  different  categories:  those  who  are  simply  machines,  that  of 
course  get  nowhere;  those  who  represent  motive  power,  but  apply 
it  to  no  machine;  those  who  would  pilot  things,  but  have  nothing  to 
pilot.  Perhaps  the  worst  combination,  however,  are  those  men  who 
have  a  machine  and  motive  power,  but  no  pilot.  Such  men  run 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  329 

amuck.  Surely  none  of  these  combinations  are  attractive,  because 
none  of  them  makes  for  efficiency,  and  none  of  them  makes  for  a 
desirable  citizen. 

You  realize,  on  the  contrary,  what  complete  cooperation  means, 
which  permits  body,  mind,  and  spirit  to  become  mutually  stimu- 
lating. The  result  is  that  each  becomes  stronger  thru  cooperation 
with  the  others.  Cultivate  all  of  these  regions  of  your  being ;  let  no 
power  of  body  or  mind  or  spirit  go  uncultivated,  that  you  may  con- 
tribute your  full  momentum  to  the  progress  of  society. 

When  citizens  represent  such  a  pioduct  we  shall  possess  the 
material  for  a  strong  nation,  a  nation  that  can  contribute  its  full 
momentum  to  the  progress  of  nations  and  to  the  establishment  of  a 
cooperative!  internationalism. 

With  ths  presentation  of  what  I  have  called  the  new  spirit,  the 
spirit  of  cooperation  and  service,  it  must  be  apparent  that  it  makes 
for  the  strength  and  efficiency  of  the  individual,  and  thru  such 
individuals  for  the  strength  and  efficiency  of  a  nation.  It  must  be 
evident  also  that  the  training  of  such  a  spirit  must  be  a  part  of  edu- 
cation, definitely  provided  for,  not  left  to  casual  exhortations  or 
individual  initiative,  and  certainly  not  included  among  electives.  In 
facing  such  a  training,  however,  it  should  be  recognized  that  it  will 
meet  a  greater  obstacle  than  stupidity  or  laziness  or  lack  of  interest. 
This  fundamental  obstacle  is  selfishness,  which  in  turn  is  the  under- 
lying stimulus  for  competition.  We  are  born  supremely  selfish, 
which  up  to  a  certain  stage  means  self -protection,  but  the  majority 
never  get  over  it.  It  means  the  constantly  recurring  question  of 
one's  own  pleasure  or  profit.  It  is  an  example  of  an  evil  application 
of  a  normal  impulse,  for  a  man  should  be  self-centered  to  a  certain 
extent,  to  cultivate  within  him  that  dignity  of  purpose,  that 
consciousness  of  strength,  which  will  lead  to  his  best  development; 
but  when  self-centering  becomes  self -gratification,  then  follows  the 
whole  train  of  evils  under  which  society  and  the  nations  today  are 
groaning. 

I  bring  this  message  especially  to  students,  for  they  represent 
the  group  that  is  to  make  the  history  of  the  next  generation.  The 
destiny  of  the  country  for  good  or  evil  is  entrusted  to  the  young  of 
today.  In  this  sense,  therefore,  in  speaking  to  them,  I  am  speaking 
to  the  most  important  element  of  society,  for  in  their  keeping  our 
future  lies.  It  is  with  this  in  view  that  our  educational  institutions 
have  been  founded,  and  it  is  of  the  greatest  importance  that  the 
youth  of  today  form  vigorous  habits  of  thought  and  action,  and 
realize  the  fundamental  things  that  make  for  progress  and  peace. 


330  Indiana  University 

Carry  with  you  in  your  individual  lives  and  in  your  lives  as  citizens 
the  thought  that  progress  lies,  not  in  the  path  of  selfish  competition, 
but  in  the  path  of  cooperation  and  service. 

The  last  president  before  Dr.  William  Lowe  Bryan  was  Joseph 
Swain,  '83,  who  is  now  president  of  Swarthmore  College. 

JOSEPH  SWAIN 
FORTY  YEARS  OF  INDIANA 

I  have  two  advantages  over  Dr.  Jordan  and  Dr.  Coulter.  I 
concede  the  rest  to  them.  I  had  in  my  administration  the  advan- 
tages of  their  experience  and  wisdom  and  I  am  an  Indiana  man. 

It  has  been  suggested  that  I  speak  today  of  Indiana  University 
as  I  have  known  it.  I  entered  Indiana  in  the  fall  of  1879,  forty-one 
years  ago  this  coming  fall.  From  that  time  until  1902  as  student, 
teacher,  and  president,  with  the  exception  of  three  years,  one  in 
Edinburgh,  as  a  student,  and  two  at  Stanford,  I  was  a  part  of  the 
University  and  it  was  a  part  of  me.  It  was  so  much  a  part  of  me 
that  it  was  many  years  after  I  left  here  before  I  could  shake  off 
the  hold  it  had  on  me  and  cease  to  think  of  her  problems  as  my  prob- 
lems. I  shall  never  cease  to  think  of  her  nor  cease  to  love  her.  It 
is  said  that  the  things  one  remembers  best  of  his  Alma  Mater  are  not 
there  at  all.  There  are  memories  that  cluster  about  the  spirit  of  the 
place.  However  this  may  be,  I  am  glad  to  give  you  today  some  of 
my  impressions. 

To  me  the  period  of  1879  to  1883,  my  college  days,  lies  between 
the  old  Indiana  University  and  the  new.  I  speak  of  the  old  with 
reverence.  An  institution  which  had  for  its  teachers  such  men  as 
Owen,  Ballantine,  Wylie,  and  Kirkwood  was  honored.  All  were 
men  whose  reputations  were  international  in  scope.  All  had  a  large 
personal  following  among  the  students  and  citizens  of  the  com- 
munity. They  were  all  men  whom  it  was  a  delight  to  know  in  their 
homes  and  in  a  social  way.  They  possessed  a  kind  of  culture  which 
the  narrower  system  of  the  present  generation  of  scholars  rarely 
produced.  During  my  student  days  I  felt  the  liberalizing  influence 
of  Kirkwood  and  Wylie,  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other  I  had 
the  advantage  of  association  with  the  masterful  personality  and 
inspiring  enthusiasm  of  the  man  who  created  a  new  era  for  Indiana 
University.  I  consider  myself  fortunate  in  having  entered  Indiana 
as  a  student  when  David  Starr  Jordan  entered  as  a  teacher.  We 
of  that  day  had  the  rare  privilege  of  sitting  at  the  feet  of  the  very 
best  that  the  old  faculty  of  gentlemen  and  scholars  had  produced 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  331 

and  to  be  a  part  of  the  new  era  which  was  begun  under  the  leader- 
ship of  Dr.  Jordan. 

I  was  with  him  in  Europe  when  the  news  came  of  the  burning 
of  Science  Hall  on  the  old  campus.  It  contained  all  his  collection 
of  fishes,  and  more  than  one  thousand  pages  of  his  unpublished 
manuscript.  5  received  the  word  of  the  great  fire  of  that  year  before 
he  did  and  it  was  my  place  to  pass  the  word  on  to  him.  I  had  never 
seen  him  shocked.  Nothing  seemed  to  ruffle  his  spirits,  so  I  con- 
cluded I  would  give  him  the  message  without  any  sugar  coating  and 
watch  the  result.  I  simply  said  to  him  that  I  had  just  received  word 
that  Science  Hall,  containing  all  that  he  held  dear  except  his  family, 
had  been  totally  burned,  nothing  being  saved.  He  looked  for  a 
moment  at  the  ground  and  gave  one  big  swallow  and  then  said, 
"Well,  there  is  only  one  thing  to  do  and  that  is  to  chip  in  and  try  it 
again."  He  did  chip  in  and  try  it  again.  He  wrote  letters  to  his 
scientific  friends  all  over  the  woild.  We  made  a  collection  of  fishes 
at  Venice  and  other  places  in  Europe.  Collections  were  sent  to  him 
at  Bloomington  from  the  Smithsonian  Institution  at  Washington, 
from  the  British  Museum  at  London,  and  many  other  places.  Theattic 
in  the  one  college  building  left  by  the  fire  was  fitted  up  for  biology 
and  some  of  the  best  work  ever  done  in  Indiana  was  done  that  fall. 
Dr.  Jordan's  group  of  students  that  year  contained  many  who  after- 
wards became  college  professors  and  men  of  reputation  in  many 
lines.  Among  these  were  Rufus  Green  of  Stanford,  Eigenmann  of 
Indiana,  Norman  of  Texas,  Evermann  of  the  United  States  Fish 
Commission,  now  of  California;  Meek  of  the  Field  Museum,  Chi- 
cago; Bicknell  of  the  American  Red  Cross;  Bollman,  who  was  a 
preparatory  student  at  that  time  but  came  often  to  the  laboratory 
and  was  perhaps  the  most  brilliant  of  all;  and  there  were  many 
others.  Not  one  of  that  group  can  ever  forget  that  term.  They  all 
realized  that  not  buildings  and  equipment  but  great  teachers  make 
a  university. 

The  election  of  David  Starr  Jordan  to  the  presidency  late  in 
1884  brought  a  new  type  of  man  to  this  office.  His  predecessor, 
Dr.  Moss,  was  a  Baptist  minister.  The  presidents  of  liberal  arts 
colleges  generally  were  ministers  in  that  day.  The  election  of  Dr. 
Jordan  brought  out  favorable  comment  in  the  press,  commending 
the  idea  of  the  election  of  an  educator  rather  than  a  ministei.  I 
remember  that  J.  N.  Study,  then  supeiintendent  of  schools  at  Rich- 
mond, Ind.,  wrote  to  the  Indianapolis  Journal  such  a  letter.  It  was 
many  years,  however,  before  the  denominational  colleges  made  this 
step  and  some  have  not  yet  made  it.  It  was  in  the  second  year  of 


332  Indiana  University 

Dr.  Jordan's  administration  that  the  University  was  moved  to  the 
present  site.  Monroe  county  came  forward  in  the  emergency  with 
a  gift  of  $50,000.  With  this  sum  and  $20,000  insurance  money, 
twenty  acres  were  purchased  in  what  was  then  known  as  Dunn's 
Woods.  There  were  erected  Owen  Hall,  Wylie  Hall,  and  Maxwell 
Hall,  the  two  former  of  brick  and  the  latter  of  wood.  The  name  of 
Maxwell  was  afterward  transferred  to  the  first  Library  Building 
erected  on  the  campus,  now  used  for  administration  offices  and  the 
Law  School. 

It  was  during  Dr.  Jordan's  administration  that  the  preparatory 
department  was  abolished.  This  act  made  the  University  dependent 
on  the  high  schools  of  the  state  for  preparatory  schools  and  made  a 
natural  connection  between  the  University  and  the  public  schools 
which  was  helpful  to  both. 

As  the  salaries  were  small,  Dr.  Jordan  filled  the  chairs  of  the 
University  with  the  best  young  men  he  could  secure,  bringing  mod- 
ern training  to  every  department,  and  the  Indiana  faculty  naturally 
imbibed  the  spirit  and  enthusiasm  of  their  chief.  He  traveled  much 
over  Indiana,  lecturing  in  all  parts  of  the  state.  He  started  a  group 
of  older  students  to  the  University  who  were  attracted  by  the  elective 
system  and  the  new  spirit.  It  was  not  uncommon  for  the  teachers 
to  have  in  their  classes  a  number  of  students  who  were  their  seniors. 
I  remember  that  one  superintendent  told  me  he  was  ambitious  to 
graduate  with  his  daughter.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  graduated  a 
year  later.  Dr.  Jordan  did  not,  as  most  executives,  wholly  give  up 
his  teaching.  Nearly  all  students  took  one  or  more  subjects  with 
him.  Thus  all  the  students  knew  something  of  his  method  of 
thought,  his  spirit,  and  his  enthusiasm. 

The  elective  system  introduced  at  Indiana  by  Dr.  Jordan  made 
the  graduates  of  the  University  the  best  equipped  persons  in  the 
state  to  teach  in  the  high  schools.  This  is  one  reason  why  so  large 
a  percentage  of  the  graduates  of  Indiana  became  teachers.  There 
is  no  doubt  of  the  fact  that  Indiana,  for  the  number  of  its  graduates, 
has  a  large  percentage  of  them  successfully  engaged  in  the  work  of 
education. 

Dr.  Jordan  did  not  allow  his  other  multifarious  duties  to  inter- 
fere with  his  research  work.  He  kept  up  this  work  thruout  his 
presidency  here  and  at  Stanford.  It  will  hardly  be  believed  by  this 
generation  that  Dr.  Jordan,  while  president,  never  had  a  private 
secretary,  He  wrote  all  his  letters  with  his  own  hand. 

David  Starr  Jordan  was  for  twelve  years  a  member  of  the 
faculty  of  Indiana,  being  seven  years  its  president.  He  has  said 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  333 

that  a  great  man  makes  a  great  mark  on  every  youth  with  whom  he 
comes  in  contact.  Dr.  Jordan  made  a  great  mark  on  Coulter,  Bryan , 
and  myself,  as  well  as  hundreds  of  others.  These  marks  have  in- 
fluenced Indiana  thru  the  twenty-nine  years  since  he  left  the 
state  and  are  destined  to  influence  it  for  generations  to  come.  For 
myself,  I  began  with  the  feeling  toward  him  which  a  freshman  has 
for  his  favorite  professor.  This  relationship  has  continued  to  exist 
for  more  than  forty  years.  During  all  this  period  his  powers  have 
expanded  and  his  knowledge  grown  so  that  I  look  up  to  him  now  as 
I  did  in  1879. 

The  spring  of  1891  was  a  memorable  one  in  Indiana.  Senator 
and  Mrs.  Stanford  came  in  their  private  car  to  Bloomington.  Watt 
Bradfute  with  his  nose  for  news  soon  learned  of  their  presence. 
Watt  was  impressed  with  the  senator's  great  wealth  and  exclaimed 
to  me,  "Why,  he  could  buy  out  the  whole  of  Monroe  county!"  But 
Stanford  did  not  buy  the  county  but  he  took  Jordan,  Branner,  Gil- 
bert, Campbell,  Barnes,  Griggs,  and  myself  from  the  faculty  to  the 
new  institution.  At  that  time  Jenks  went  to  Cornell,  Motske  to 
Johns  Hopkins,  and  Naylor  to  DePauw.  Thus  ten  men  were  taken 
from  Indiana. 

Under  these  circumstances  it  was  highly  important  that  the 
right  man  should  first  of  all  be  secured  as  a  successor  to  Dr.  Jordan. 

Dr.  Jordan  and  Dr.  Coulter  were  friends  and  co-workers  in 
the  cause  of  scientific  education  in  Indiana.  They  had  for  many 
years  worked  together  in  educational  gatherings  in  different  parts 
of  Indiana  and  together  are  largely  responsible  for  a  new  era  of 
scientific  study  in  the  public  schools  of  the  state.  They  also  greatly 
influenced  the  colleges.  Dr.  Jordan's  faith  in  Dr.  Coulter  was  such 
that  he  urged  his  appointment  as  president  seven  years  before  when 
he  himself  was  chosen.  It  was  therefore  natural  that  Jordan  should 
now  turn  to  Coulter  as  his  successor.  Coulter  was  unanimously 
elected  and  his  selection  gave  general  satisfaction.  He  gathered 
about  him  a  young  and  enthusiastic  faculty.  The  Stanford  exodus 
had  called  special  attention  to  Indiana.  Students  came  the  next 
year  in  larger  numbers  than  ever  before.  Dr.  Coulter  and  his  new 
faculty  went  into  all  parts  of  the  state  in  the  interest  of  the  Uni- 
versity. The  next  legislature  was  friendly.  It  voted  $50,000  to 
the  University  for  a  new  building.  Indeed,  the  State  University 
so  prospered  under  the  leadership  of  Dr.  Coulter  that  in  two  years 
after  his  election  here  he  was  called  to  the  presidency  of  Lake 
Forest.  It  was  very  natural  that  regret  was  widespread  that  he 
should  so  soon  be  called  away,  when  things  were  moving  so  smoothly. 


334  Indiana  University 

The  trustees  again  had  to  elect  a  new  president,  otherwise  I  might 
never  have  been  one  of  the  "Big  Four"  today. 

Of  my  own  period  of  nine  years  I  shall  try  to  be  brief,  tho 
memories  crowd  upon  me.  In  these  years  the  numbers  grew  from 
572  to  1,354.  For  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  state  the 
State  Normal,  Purdue,  and  Indiana  were  supported  by  one-sixth  of 
a  mill  tax  on  every  dollar  of  taxable  property  in  the  state.  This 
amount  has  been  twice  increased  and  has  proved  a  very  satisfactory 
method  of  providing  revenue  for  state  educational  institutions  in 
this  and  other  states.  Kirkwood  Hall  was  erected  from  the  $50,000 
referred  to  above;  an  Assembly  Hall  and  Kirkwood  Observatory 
were  also  erected.  Wylie  Hall  was  rebuilt  after  the  fire  and  en- 
larged. A  new  power-house  long  outgrown  and  now  substituted  by 
another  was  built.  For  a  Science  Hall  $100,000  was  secured.  A 
conditional  gift  was  made  by  John  D.  Rockefeller  and  the  campaign 
begun  for  the  Student  Building.  Thirty  acres  were  added  to  the 
campus. 

On  the  educational  side  the  aim  was  to  make  as  good  as  possible 
all  departments  rather  than  to  expand  extensively.  The  historical 
and  literary  departments  were  enlarged.  The  great  impetus  that 
had  been  given  by  Jordan  and  Coulter  in  scientific  studies  had  caused 
these  departments  to  develop  in  advance  of  other  departments  and 
place  arts  and  science  courses  more  nearly  on  an  equal  basis. 
Strong  men  have  gone  out  into  the  state  trained  in  English,  history, 
education,  economics,  and  politics,  as  well  as  science,  mathematics, 
and  language. 

The  growth  of  the  State  University  was  so  great  that  the 
private  colleges  of  the  state  felt  that  something  must  be  done  either 
to  check  the  growth  of  the  State  University  or  to  give  them  a  new 
development.  They  brought  their  case  to  the  state  legislature  in 
the  form  of  an  attack  on  the  State  Board  of  Education  of  which  the 
presidents  of  the  three  state  educational  institutions  were  ex-ofncio 
members.  They  made  a  strong  plea  for  the  work  of  the  private 
institutions.  They  conducted  a  propaganda  for  their  cause  thru 
the  press  and  in  public  meetings  thruout  Indiana.  The  bill  pro- 
posed by  the  private  colleges  was  brought  to  an  open  meeting  of  the 
Committee  on  Education  where  the  state  schools,  the  private  col- 
leges, and  public  schools  were  represented.  At  this  meeting  the 
tide  began  to  turn.  The  bill  of  the  private  colleges,  after  a  rather 
bitter  fight  in  the  legislature,  much  talk  thruout  the  state,  and 
publicity  in  the  public  press,  was  defeated,  and  the  presidents  of  the 
state  schools  were  retained  as  members  of  the  State  Board  of  Edu- 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  335 

cation.  The  state  institutions,  in  order  that  there  might  be  no  just 
cause  for  criticism,  proposed  a  bill  which  was  passed  by  the  legis- 
lature and  authorized  the  Governor  to  appoint  three  additional  edu- 
cational men  on  the  Board,  one  of  whom  should  be  a  county  super- 
intendent. The  other  two  were  appointed  from  the  private  colleges. 
While  this  scrap  was  rather  ugly  for  a  time  and  long  drawn  out, 
it  did  good  in  the  long  run.  The  atmosphere  was  cleared  and  it  led 
to  a  better  understanding  of  the  needs  of  all  the  institutions  and 
there  have  been  many  years  of  good-will  and  cooperation  by  all  the 
educational  institutions  of  the  state.  No  more  important  legislation 
has  taken  place  in  the  last  forty  years  for  higher  education  in  Indi- 
ana. This  struggle  will  never  come  again. 

There  is  another  incident  which  brought  more  strength  to  the 
State  University  which  occurred  just  before  I  left  Indiana.  There 
was  a  decision  by  the  supreme  court  of  the  state  that  Indiana  Uni- 
versity is  an  integral  part  of  the  state's  school  system.  The  aim 
of  the  framers  of  the  first  constitution  was  to  establish  the  public 
school  system  of  Indiana  from  the  kindergarten  up  to  and  including 
the  State  University.  The  decision  by  the  supreme  court  practically 
legalized  this  aim  and  Indiana  University  became  as  much  an 
integral  part  of  the  public  school  system  as  the  elementary  schools. 
After  this  decision  the  question  was  no  longer  whether  Indiana 
should  support  its  State  University  but  how  much  the  state  should 
support  it.  When  we  consider  that  in  1879  the  whole  income  of 
the  University  was  $35,700;  that  there  were  10  teachers  and  164 
students,  and  that  this  year  the  income  is  approximately  $999,000, 
the  number  of  teachers  150  and  3,800  students,  we  realize  that 
Indiana  has  come  a  long  way  in  forty  years  toward  the  realization 
of  the  dreams  of  the  framers  of  the  first  constitution. 

When  I  left  Indiana  for  Swarthmore  College  there  was  but  one 
man  considered  as  my  successor.  The  faculty,  alumni,  trustees, 
and  friends  of  the  University  generally  all  turned  to  Dr.  William 
Lowe  Bryan  as  the  logical  man.  He  was  a  graduate  of  the  Uni- 
versity who  commanded  a  high  place  as  a  teacher,  scholar,  and 
thinker  on  educational  problems.  He  had  shown  great  loyalty  to 
Indiana  University  and  had  declined  numerous  calls  East  and  West 
in  order  that  he  might  serve  Indiana.  He  had  been  a  member  of 
the  faculty  under  the  three  administrations  previous  to  his.  He 
had  attained  greater  distinction  as  an  educational  leader  at  the  time 
of  his  election  than  any  of  his  predecessors  at  the  time  of  their 
election.  His  advice  had  been  sought  and  freely  given  on  all  the 
leading  problems  of  the  University.  After  much  hesitation  and 


336  Indiana  University 

misgiving  on  his  part,  he  accepted  the  unanimous  election  of  the 
trustees.  During  his  term  of  eighteen  years  he  has  witnessed  the 
greatest  development  of  the  University.  The  attendance  has  grown 
from  334  in  1902  to  3,800  in  1920;  the  income  from  $129,800  to 
$999,000;  the  number  of  teachers  from  66  to  150.  In  this  period 
the  number  of  graduate  students  has  greatly  increased  and  the 
Graduate  School  been  formally  recognized.  Schools  and  depart- 
ments and  courses  have  been  established  as  follows:  Education, 
Medicine,  Extension,  Journalism,  Comparative  Philology,  Anatomy, 
Hygiene,  Social  Service,  Political  Science,  Physiology,  Music,  Mili- 
tary Science,  Commerce,  a  Training  School  for  Nurses,  Waterman 
Institute  for  Research,  and  combined  courses  in  Arts,  Law,  and 
Medicine.  The  campus  has  been  increased  from  50  to  120  acres. 
Science  Hall,  for  which  money  was  secured  in  the  previous  period, 
was  completed.  The  campaign  for  $100,000  for  a  Student  Building 
was  finished  and  the  building  erected.  The  new  power-house, 
Library  Building,  Men's  Gymnasium,  Robert  W.  Long  Hospital, 
and  the  new  Medical  Building  were  all  completed.  The  high 
character  and  the  standing  of  Indiana  has  been  attested  by  many 
educational  organizations  both  on  public  and  private  founda- 
tions. Suggestions  were  made  resulting  in  the  greater  develop- 
ment and  expansion  due  to  greater  appreciation  by  the  state.  All 
this  is  important,  but  much  more  do  we  rejoice  in  the  character  of 
the  work  done  here  which  is  attested  by  the  high  place  that  her 
alumni  now  take  in  all  parts  of  the  Union.  Wherever  I  go  in  the 
United  States  I  meet  Indiana  men  and  women  who  are  loyal  and 
an  honor  to  their  Alma  Mater. 

Did  time  permit,  there  are  many  things  I  should  like  to  say 
but  I  content  myself  with  two  things  more.  I  think  the  best  thing 
about  Indiana  University  has  been  its  strong  faculty  foi  the  money 
available.  I  believe  Indiana  has  had  a  very  strong  faculty.  In  this 
connection  I  take  what  I  hope  is  a  pardonable  pride  in  the  personnel 
of  the  men  filling  the  offices  of  general  administration.  These  men 
were  in  office  when  I  left  eighteen  years  ago  and  had  been  my 
trusted  helpers  many  years  before.  Where  else  will  you  find  four 
such  men  working  together  in  one  institution  for  so  many  years  as 
Bursar  Smith,  who  has  built  up  such  a  strong  University  office; 
John  W.  Cravens,  who  has  filled  a  unique  place  for  a  quarter 
of  a  century;  Dean  Hoffman,  who  has  so  well  earned  the  right 
to  retire;  and,  lastly,  the  head  of  the  University  himself,  whom  we 
all  so  greatly  admire,  Dr.  William  Lowe  Bryan?  I  wonder  how 
many  of  those  who  see  these  men  and  work  with  them  every  day 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  337 

realize    what    it  means  to  have  such  a  quartet  of  administrative 
officers. 

Now,  finally,  allow  me  to  say  that  in  these  few  minutes  it  is 
impossible  to  give  a  finished  sketch  and  express  the  joy  I  have  in 
coming  back  and  witnessing  this  magnificent  development,  but  I 
can  say  for  the  past  as  was  said  by  Paul,  "We  have  planted,  Apollos 
has  watered,  and  God  has  given  the  increase."  For  the  future  I 
can  say  with  Whittier, 

Our  Father's  God  from  out  whose  hand 
The  centuries  fall  like  grains  of  sand, 
We  meet  today,  united,  free, 
Loyal  to  our  land  and  thee, 
To  thank  thee  for  the  era  done, 
And  trust  thee  in  the  opening  one. 

After  the  three  addresses,  President  Bryan  called  on  the  fol- 
lowing deans,  who  presented  the  candidates  for  degrees  in  their 
respective  Schools:  Horace  A.  Hoffman,  '81,  dean  of  the  College 
of  Liberal  Arts,  240  candidates  for  the  A.B.  degree,  and  31  for  the 
B.S.;  Charles  M.  Hepburn,  dean  of  the  School  of  Law,  21  candi- 
dates for  the  LL.B.  degree  and  2  for  the  J.D.  (in  addition,  7  LL.B. 
candidates  and  1  J.D.,  whose  names  were  starred  on  the  program, 
will  receive  their  degrees  in  the  fall  of  1920  if  their  work  is  com- 
pleted by  that  time);  Carl  H.  Eigenmann,  '86,  dean  of  the  Gradu- 
ate School,  21  candidates  for  the  A.M.  and  5  for  the  Ph.D.; 
Charles  P.  Emerson,  dean  of  the  Medical  School,  11  candidates 
for  the  Graduate  Nurse  degree,  48  for  the  M.D.,and  3  M.D.  cum 
laude.  In  all,  382  persons  received  diplomas. 

The  following  students  graduated  with  distinction:  Chester 
Albert  Amick,  chemistry,  Scipio;  Jessie  Frances  Arnold,  Romance 
languages,  Stockwell;  Gordon  Wesley  Batman,  anatomy,  Mitchell; 
Claude  Elmer  Cogswell,  history,  Bloomington;  Addie  Viola  Cover- 
dale,  English,  Fort  Wayne;  Charles  Edmon  Dickinson,  English, 
Lowell;  Byron  K.  Elliott,  economics,  Indianapolis;  Glenn  Pierre 
Galloway,  mathematics,  Pierceton;  Kenneth  Jennings  Good,  his- 
tory, Knox;  May  Avis  Iden,  English,  Etna  Green;  Henry  Calvin 
Mohler,  history,  Roann;  Bessie  Newlon,  English,  Salem;  Thomas 
Rossman  Palfrey,  Romance  languages,  Vincennes;  Mabel  Vienna 
Phillips,  English,  Bloomfield;  John  Craig  Sample,  economics,  At- 
tica; Mary  Alice  Seller,  Latin,  Bloomington;  Hiram  Elijah  Stone- 
cipher,  Latin,  Zionsville;  Herman  Steiner  Strauss,  economics,  Fort 
Wayne;  Martha  Esther  Beatrice  Swanson,  Latin,  Clarks  Hill;  Mer- 
lin S.  Temple,  mathematics,  Kendallville. 


338  Indiana  University 

Those  graduating  with  high  distinction  were:  Mildred  Marie 
Begeman,  Latin,  Fowler;  Lester  Irving  Bockstahler,  physics,  Santa 
Claus;  Cecil  Calvert  Craig,  mathematics,  Otwell;  Edward  Scott 
Johnston,  Latin,  Bloomington;  William  Raimond  Ringer,  philoso- 
phy, Williamsport ;  Kenyon  Stevenson,  history,  Frankfort. 

Secretary  John  W.  Cravens  announced  the  following  prize 
awards  and  gifts: 

The  Norton-Mavor  Latin  prize  was  awarded  to  Philip  Lowen- 
thal,  of  Evansville.  This  piize  consists  of  the  interest  on  $200 
given  by  Lester  L.  Norton,  '71  (who  died  June  11),  in  memory 
of  his  daughter,  Caroline  Buskirk  Norton-Mavor,  '07,  for  excel- 
lence of  scholarship  in  freshman  Latin. 

The  John  W.  Foster  prize  was  awarded  to  Martha  E.  Neal, 
'20,  of  Vincennes.  This  prize  of  $50  is  derived  from  a  fund  of 
$1,000  given  to  the  University  by  the  late  John  W.  Foster,  '55,  and 
is  awarded  annually  for  the  best  essay  by  an  undergraduate  on 
some  subject  connected  with  the  political  and  diplomatic  history 
of  the  United  States.  This  year  the  subject  for  competition  was 
"Japanese-American  Relations  since  1900". 

Benjamin  F.  Long,  '01,  of  Logansport,  a  trustee  of  Indiana 
University,  gave  $500  to  a  School  of  Law  Loan  Fund,  to  be  avail- 
able to  students  in  the  Law  School  under  the  usual  regulations  re- 
lating to  loan  funds. 

Dr.  Bernard  D.  Ravdin,  '14,  of  Evansville,  announced  that  the 
Ravdin  Medal  was  awarded  to  E.  Vernon  Hahn,  '20,  of  Indianapolis. 
This  prize  is  given  to  the  member  of  the  senior  class  in  the  Medical 
School  who  makes  the  highest  average  in  the  four-year  course. 

The  Pickhardt-Six  Memorial  Loan  Fund  described  above  was 
announced,  as  were  also  the  alumnae  subscriptions  for  scholarships 
and  dormitory  furnishings  and  Mrs.  Bryan's  gift  of  $1,000. 

The  Bloomington  alumnae  of  Kappa  Kappa  Gamma  offered  a 
silver  loving  cup  to  be  given  to  the  University  woman  who  has  the 
highest  scholarship  this  year.  The  winner  of  the  prize  [announced 
later],  was  Estelle  Brown  Owen,  of  Fort  Wayne.  A  similar  gift  is  to 
be  offered  each  year. 

The  honorary  degree,  LL.D.,  was  conferred  on  four  persons: 
John  Merle  Coulter,  Ph.D.  '84,  Joseph  Swain,  '83,  Enoch  Albert 
Bryan,  '78,  and  Horace  A.  Hoffman,  '81.  In  presenting  Dr.  Coulter, 
Professor  Arthur  L.  Foley,  '90,  head  of  the  physics  department  in 
the  University,  said: 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  339 

Mr.  President,  John  Merle  Coulter  was  born  in  China,  the  son 
of  American  missionary  parents  who  early  returned  to  Indiana  to 
live.  He  received  his  bachelor's  degree  at  Hanover  College  in  1870, 
his  master's  degree  in  1873,  and  his  doctor's  degree  at  Indiana  Uni- 
versity, 1882.  He  was  for  five  years  professor  of  natural  science  at 
Hanover,  two  years  professor  of  biology  at  Wabash,  two  years 
(1891  to  1893)  professor  of  botany  and  president  of  Indiana  Uni- 
versity, and  three  years  president  of  Lake  Forest.  Since  1896  he 
has  been  professor  and  head  of  the  department  of  botany  of  the 
University  of  Chicago.  He  founded  the  Botanical  Gazette  in  1875 
and  has  remained  its  editor  for  forty-five  years.  He  is  the  author 
of  several  textbooks  and  of  a  large  number  of  papers  descriptive  of 
his  scientific  investigations  in  systematic  botany  and  morphology,  in 
which  he  is  a  recognized  authority.  He  is  a  member  of  the  National 
Academy  and  of  many  other  learned  societies  of  America  and 
Europe,  past  president  of  many  of  them,  the  retiring  president  of  the 
American  Association. 

In  recognition  of  his  distinguished  career  as  a  scholar,  edu- 
cator, investigator,  editor,  author,  and  executive,  he  is  presented  for 
the  degree  of  doctor  of  laws. 

Joseph  Swain  was  introduced  by  Secretary  John  W.  Cravens, 
'97,  who  paid  him  the  following  tribute: 

Joseph  Swain,  born  in  Indiana,  he  has  reflected  honor  upon 
his  native  state;  graduate  of  Indiana  University,  he  has  brought 
additional  renown  to  his  Alma  Mater ;  professor  in  a  sister  institution 
of  the  West,  he  left  his  impress  there ;  president  of  a  sister  institu- 
tion of  the  East,  his  genius  as  an  executive  brought  to  the  college 
still  greater  strength  and  opportunity  for  service;  professor  in  Indi- 
ana University  and,  later,  for  nine  epoch-making  years,  its  president, 
his  record  for  achievement  was  eminent;  father  of  the  fraction-of- 
a-mill  tax  that  placed  the  institution  on  a  firm  financial  basis;  co- 
worker  with  his  wife,  Frances  Morgan  Swain,  in  starting  the  move- 
ment which  resulted  in  the  erection  of  the  Student  Building;  dis- 
tinguished as  a  judge  of  men ;  a  diplomat  of  the  highest  type  when 
diplomacy  is  demanded;  man  of  indomitable  will  when  justice  is  at 
stake;  as  an  individual,  educator,  and  executive,  he  has  stood  for 
character  and  culture;  loyalty  to  friends  has  ever  been  one  of  his 
chief  virtues;  he  has  been  prominent  and  influential  in  the  edu- 
cational affairs  of  state  and  nation ;  for  all  these  things  and  more, 


340  Indiana  University 

Indiana  University  is  deeply  indebted  to  him,  and  in  grateful  recog- 
nition, he  is  presented  for  the  institution's  highest  academic  degree, 
doctor  of  laws. 

Enoch  Albert  Bryan,  brother  of  President  William  Lowe  Bryan, 
received  the  degree  after  being  presented  by  Professor  James  A. 
Woodburn,  '76,  head  of  the  history  department  of  the  University, 
who  spoke  thus: 

Ladies  and  gentlemen,  upon  the  initiative  of  members  of  our 
faculty  without  consultation  with  our  president  and  without  his 
knowledge,  it  was  unanimously  voted  by  the  faculty  and  Board  of 
Trustees  that  the  honorary  degree  of  doctor  of  laws  (LL.D.)  be  con- 
ferred upon  Enoch  Albert  Bryan,  commissioner  of  education  of 
Idaho. 

Mr.  President,  in  accordance  with  this  vote  of  the  University 
authorities,  I  have  the  honor  to  present  for  the  degree  of  doctor  of 
laws  your  brother,  Enoch  Albert  Bryan,  bachelor  of  arts,  Indiana 
University,  1878;  master  of  arts,  Harvard  University,  1893;  doctor 
of  laws,  Monmouth  College,  1902,  Michigan  Agricultural  College, 
1907;  president  of  Vincennes  University,  from  1882  to  1893;  presi- 
dent of  the  State  College  of  Washington,  from  1893  to  1916;  com- 
missioner of  education  of  the  state  of  Idaho  since  1917.  A  college 
president  and  administrator  of  distinguished  success;  a  builder  of 
a  great  educational  institution  in  the  state  of  Washington,  to  whose 
early  beginnings  and  progress  he  has  given  nearly  a  quarter  of  a 
century  of  unselfish  and  courageous  service,  a  service  not  excelled 
in  the  field  of  education  in  the  great  Northwest;  a  constructive 
leader  of  educational  opinion ;  a  thoughtful  and  productive  student 
of  the  problems  of  education  in  their  relation  to  agriculture,  to  the 
mechanic  arts,  to  the  material  resources  of  the  nation  and  the  wel- 
fare of  the  people ;  at  present  the  head  of  the  educational  system  of  the 
state  of  Idaho;  a  true  teacher,  a  devoted  friend  and  guide  to  aspiring 
youth;  a  man,  among  the  greatest  of  Indiana's  sons,  whose  dis- 
tinguished career  has  reflected  honor  upon  himself  and  his  Alma 
Mater. 

Horace  A.  Hoffman,  '81,  professor  of  Greek,  dean  of  the  Col- 
lege of  Liberal  Arts,  and  vice-president  of  the  University,  who  re- 
tires August  1  on  a  Carnegie  pension,  was  presented  by  Professor 
Ulysses  G.  Weatherly,  head  of  the  department  of  economics  and 
sociology  in  the  University.  He  spoke  these  words  of  his  colleague : 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  341 

Mr.  President,  I  present  to  you  for  the  degree  doctor  of  laws, 
Horace  Addison  Hoffman,  bachelor  of  arts,  Indiana,  1881 ;  master 
of  arts,  Harvard,  1884;  instructor  in  Latin  and  Greek,  1881-83; 
professor  of  Greek,  1885-1920;  dean  of  the  College  of  Liberal  Arts, 
1894-1920;  vice-president,  1919-20.  A  wise  counsellor,  a  fear- 
less and  capable  executive,  a  representative  of  the  best  traditions  of 
scholarship,  he  now  lays  down  his  academic  office  with  the  respect 
of  the  public  and  the  affectionate  regard  of  his  colleagues. 

David  Starr  Jordan  received  the  LL.D.  degree  from  Indiana 
University  in  1909. 

The  president's  address  to  the  senior  class  follows: 
WILLIAM  LOWE  BRYAN 
PARADISE 

Two  men,  a  poet  and  a  physician — the  poet  was  Maeterlinck 
and  I  use  his  language — stood  on  a  hill  in  Normandy  overlooking  a 
plain  where  peasants  were  harvesting  wheat.  The  distant  scene  was 
very  lovely.  Overhead  a  magnificent  sky.  Far  away  the  ocean. 
By  it  the  parish  church  with  its  cluster  of  lime  trees  and  its  homely 
graveyard.  And  yonder  the  peasants,  men  and  women,  with  simple, 
strong,  rhythmic  movements  building  in  the  wheat  stack  what  the 
physician  calls  their  monument  of  life.  The  distant  scene,  says  he, 
the  air  of  evening  weave  their  joyous  cries  into  a  kind  of  song  with- 
out words  which  replies  to  the  noble  song  of  the  leaves  as  they 
whisper  over  head. 

When  the  two  men  had  for  a  time  sensed  from  afar  this  ex- 
quisite pastoral  symphony — type  of  all  pastoral  poems  and  songs — 
they  drew  near  where  the  peasants  were  at  work.  Then  all  the 
beauty  vanished.  The  physician  noted  that  they  suffered  from  the 
curses  of  overwork  and  vice.  Some  were  alcoholic,  diseased,  de- 
formed, imbecile.  Some  he  knew  to  be  mean,  avaricious,  jealous, 
obscene.  I  could  give  you,  said  he,  the  minutest  details  of  the  mean- 
ness, deceit,  injustice,  malice  which  underlie  this  picture  of  ethereal 
toil.  This,  he  declared,  is  the  truth  of  practical  life  based  upon  the 
most  precise  and  only  facts  which  we  can  observe  and  test. 

But  then,  the  physician  continued,  let  us  look  again.  Let  us  not 
reject  a  single  one  of  these  sordid  facts.  But  let  us  see  also  the 

JThe  story  of  the  "Three  Distances"  is  condensed  (quoted  and  paraphrased)  from  Maeterlinck's 
Life  of  the  Bee,  pages  328-344  (translated  by  Sutro). 


342  Indiana  University 

great  and  curious  force  which  lies  back  of  them.  Lowly  as  they 
are,  these  peasants  are  not  so  low  as  their  ancestors  before  the 
French  Revolution.  Just  as  they  are,  they  share  in  the  upward 
struggle  of  life  and  mind. 

What  one  thinks  of  life  as  a  whole,  says  Maeterlinck,  and  of 
almost  every  moment  of  it  depends  upon  whether  he  sees  it  from 
the  first  or  the  second  or  the  third  of  these  three  distances — far  off 
in  the  glow  of  romance,  close  up  to  its  ugly  worst,  or  inside  where 
life  makes  its  upward  fight. 

These  three  views  show  the  three  estates  of  men. 

I.    PARADISE 

The  first  is  Paradise.  Paradise  of  children,  Paradise  of  poets, 
Paradise  of  those  who  expect  at  once  the  Age  of  Gold.  It  is  the 
Land  where  Santa  Claus  is  still  alive.  It  is  the  Land  of  Song  where 

The  year's  at  the  spring 
And  the  day's  at  the  morn ; 

The  lark's  on  the  wing; 

God's  in  his  heaven — 
All's  right  with  the  world! 

All's  right  with  the  world.  So  thought  the  captive  Jew  in 
Babylon.  The  warfare  of  his  people  was  accomplished,  their 
iniquities  were  pardoned,  their  afflictions  overpast.  They  were  now 
to  go  back  and  reign  in  a  glorified  Jerusalem  to  which  the  drome- 
daries of  Midian  and  the  flocks  of  Kedar  and  the  ships  of  Tarshish 
and  the  kings  of  strangers  would  come  bringing  the  wealth  and 
homage  of  the  world. 

All's  right  with  the  world.  So  thought  the  French  Republicans 
in  1790  when  two  hundred  thousand  of  them,  men  and  women,  rich 
and  poor,  ran  together  with  spades  and  barrows  to  erect  on  the 
Field  of  Mars  an  Altar  of  Liberty.  A  year  before  they  had  pulled 
down  the  Bastille.  With  it  they  had  pulled  down  the  world-old 
tyrannies  of  Church  and  State.  And  now  they  were  to  establish 
the  reign  of  Liberty,  Equality,  and  Fraternity  forevermore. 

All's  right  with  the  world.  So  thought  our  liberated  blacks  in 
1865.  I  remember  a  song  they  sang  in  honor  of  one  of  their 
prophets  who  had  foretold  the  good  day  and  who  had  left  the  dying 
charge  that  he  be  wakened  from  his  grave  for  the  Great  Jubilee.  In 
'65  they  thought  that  the  Great  Jubilee  was  at  hand  and  sang: 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  343 

The  good  time's  coming, 

It's  almost  here. 

It's  been  long,  long,  long  on  the  way. 

Now  run  tell  Elijah 

To  hurry  up  Pomp 

To  meet  us  at  the  gum  tree 

Down  by  the  swamp 

To  wake  Nicodemus  today. 

All's  right  with  the  world.  So  thought  millions  of  men  and 
women,  in  all  the  warring  nations  on  Armistice  Day  of  1918.  War 
is  at  an  end,  they  cried.  We  have  finished  with  war  in  this  horrible 
four-year  Armageddon.  We  have  been  tormented  with  sword  and 
with  hunger  and  with  death.  We  have  drunk  of  the  wine  of  the 
wrath  of  God  which  was  poured  out  without  mixture  into  the  cup 
of  His  indignation.  But  all  that  is  now  past.  The  oppression  of 
the  laborer  is  past.  The  oppression  of  the  backward  races  and  of 
the  little  nations  is  past.  The  wicked  devices  of  secret  diplomacy, 
with  its  secret  covenants,  secretly  arrived  at — all  that  is  past.  The 
Age  of  Gold  has  come.  We  have  found  Paradise. 

II.     PARADISE  LOST 

But,  alas,  it  is  hard  to  stay  in  Paradise.  Clergymen  with  nicely 
laundered  voices  hush  the  memory  of  Adam's  fall  and  the  Lamenta- 
tions of  Jeremiah  and  the  despair  of  Ecclesiastes  and  the  torments 
of  Job  and  the  hell  of  John  Calvin  and  make  the  text  read:  "Except 
ye  repent  (in  a  degree)  and  be  converted  (to  an  extent)  ye  shall  be 
damned  (in  a  measure) . "  But  that  text  will  not  do  for  the  physician 
who  every  day  sees  disease  at  its  ugliest.  It  will  not  do  for  the 
social  physician  who  finds  in  several  districts  of  one  Indiana  town- 
ship more  than  half  the  children  imbecile  as  a  result  of  vice.  And 
that  jellyfish  text  will  not  now  do  for  any  of  us  who  find  a  World 
Peace  of  bloodshed  and  wholesale  starvation  not  less  dreadful  than 
the  World  War.  No  wonder  we  have  the  great  pessimists  Moliere, 
Schopenhauer,  Swift,  Nietsche.  Shakespeare,  the  greatest  of  them, 
did  not  imagine  any  city  or  state  in  which  a  great  and  good  man 
could  succeed  or  even  survive  except  as  a  hermit.  Shakespeare  has 
no  hero.  Brutus  and  Hamlet  go  down  to  death  and  the  generous 
but  disillusioned  Timon  cries 

.     .     .     .     All  is  oblique 

There's  nothing  level  in  our  cursed  natures 

But  direct  villany.     Therefore  be  abhorred 

All  feasts,  societies,  and  throngs  of  men. 

Timon  will  to  the  woods  where  he  shall  find 
The  unkindest  beast  more  kinder  than  mankind. 


344  Indiana  University 

III.    PARADISE  REGAINED 

Nevertheless —  It  is  possible  to  know  the  worst  and  not  be  a 
pessimist — to  meet  the  worst  without  fear,  without  surrender. 

The  scholar  at  his  best  does  so.  The  scholar  undertakes  to 
destroy  the  plagues,  yellow  fever,  tuberculosis,  syphilis,  and  the  rest. 

The  scholar  undertakes  to  destroy  the  conditions  which  multiply 
the  epileptic,  the  blind,  the  imbecile. 

The  scholar  undertakes  to  fight  poverty  by  finding  new  and 
unlimited  energies  in  place  of  coal  and  by  furnishing  the  conditions 
for  economic  liberty  which  underlies  political  liberty. 

The  scholar  knows  the  physical  hells  better  than  anyone  else 
and  he  is  not  afraid.  Without  fear,  without  haste,  without  rest,  he 
goes  about  to  destroy  them  and  to  make  not  a  new  heaven  but  a  new 
earth.  In  all  these  things  this  University,  thruout  its  hundred 
years,  has  played  and  now  plays  its  part. 

Still  greater  is  the  work  of  poet  and  prophet.  These  men  do 
not  give  us  food  or  coal  or  medicine.  They  give  us  a  more  neces- 
sary thing.  They  teach  us  with  what  will  to  meet  the  meanness, 
uncleanness,  cruelty,  treachery,  and  hate  which  are  everywhere 
among  men  and  in  all  human  institutions.  They  are  not  all  alike, 
these  men.  They  are  of  every  sort.  There  are  almost  four  hun- 
dred of  you  graduates  and  you  have  every  variety  of  disposition  and 
of  experience.  But  the  one  of  you  whose  experience  is  most  bitter 
and  whose  disposition  is  most  black  can  find  a  great  man  who  is 
like  yourself, — who  has  met  the  worst  that  you  have  met  and  has 
fought  his  way  thru.  One  like  Elijah  fights  to  the  end  with  the 
courage  of  despair.  One  like  William  James  fights  not  with  despair, 
with  cheer  rather  and  exultation,  a  tiumpet  at  his  lips.  One  like 
Booker  Washington  is  victim  of  a  race  hatred  from  which  there 
seems  no  escape — and  he  escapes.  No  man — I  heard  him  say  it — no 
race  shall  degrade  me  by  making  me  hate  them.  One  like  Lincoln 
faces  the  tragic  years  with  grief  but  also  with  laughter,  with  un- 
broken patience  and  unbroken  will. 

Does  no  one  of  these  men  win  you  to  his  banner  of  faith  and 
of  battle? 

Then  I  show  you  a  greater  sight. 

I  show  you  the  countless  multitude  of  nameless  men  and  women 
who  come  up  thru  the  awful  centuries  covered  with  dust  and 
blood  but  who  never  quite  despair  and  who  never  surrender.  Jew 
and  Greek,  Barbarian  and  Scythian,  Scholar  and  Clown,  Publican, 
Thief  and  Harlot — how  different  they  are,  how  alike  they  are — the 
glory  and  shame  of  the  world! 


Centennial  Memorial  Volume  345 

Go  up  above  them  if  you  can — as  far  as  you  can — into  the  world 
of  beauty  and  goodness  even  as  the  Son  of  Man  went  up  into  the 
Mountain  of  Transfiguration. 

But  you  can  never  go  high  enough  alone  to  reach  Paradise. 

You  must  go  down  with  the  Son  of  Man  into  the  thick  of  the 
struggling  multitude.  You  belong  with  them.  You  are  of  one 
blood  and  of  like  passions  with  them.  You  must  march  with  them. 
You  must  march  in  the  dread  pageant  which  goes  to  Golgotha.  It 
may  be  to  hang  there  between  thieves,  and  it  may  be  to  find  victory 
when  you  can  say  to  one  of  them:  Brother,  this  day  together  we 
enter  Paradise. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LI 


